One Fire at a Time
by Words Are My Weapons
Summary: Bellarke Modern AU - Bellamy is a firefighter and saves Clarke in a fire in an art studio. But this is no damsel in distress story. Their relationship grows as they try to find out what started the fire that nearly killed her. Sort of a slow burn. Will feature characters who have died in the show. I'm pretty bad at descriptions so have a read and see for yourself. Coarse Language
1. Chapter 1 - Another Day on the Job

_Chapter 1 – Another Day on the Job_

* * *

Bellamy POV

Was he crazy for wanting this life?

Bellamy asked that question almost on a daily basis when he showed up to work. Seriously, what person in their right mind wants to run towards the burning building rather than away from it? But it was all he ever wanted. It helped that he worked in one of the best fire houses in California, with mates who always had his back. That didn't make the job any easier though, especially when they got there too late. Every time they went out on a call, Bellamy sent the universe a silent prayer that they'll save everyone. He didn't even believe in a God, but it somehow helped. This time was no different.

As the sirens blared, they all piled into the truck, heading to a fire at an art studio near Stanford University. No one could bring themselves to speak on the journey there. Bellamy has worked with these guys long enough to know that they're preparing themselves for what lies ahead, and for what they might find.

"Shit," muttered John Murphy. He's the only one to say anything when they arrived at the fire, though everyone could see the same thing he could. It wasn't just an art studio that was on fire, but there were a few apartments above it too that could be full of smoke. Or worse. Fires like this rarely have a happy ending. Someone is usually too far gone to be saved. To make matters worse, it was a Saturday, meaning more people at home rather than at work. There could be children… Shit is right.

They pulled up right in front of the building, people spilling out onto the footpath. Bellamy jumped out of the truck, the others quickly following suit, grabbing equipment as they went.

"Okay, Murphy, you clear these people away from the building, and get them looked at by the paramedics. Then set up a perimeter. We don't need anyone rushing in trying to be a hero" Murphy nodded and jogged toward the nearest people, ushering them away from the building.

"Miller, Wick, Lincoln, you're with me. We're gonna do a quick sweep of the building to make sure everyone is out before we put out this fire. The rest of you, stay alert, this building can go at any minute and we don't want to be in there when it happens." Bellamy looked at each of them in turn to make sure they were on the same page. There was a chorus of "Yes, Lieutenant," in response.

Putting his mask on, Bellamy turned towards the building and headed in first, like always. It was clear that the fire had started in the studio; it was well alight when they walked in. Bellamy signalled for Lincoln and Wick to check out the art studio, and for Miller to follow him to check the apartments. The fire had made it to the upper levels as well, but it wasn't as bad as the studio, it was mostly smoke making visibility crappy. Sweeping though the building, the first and second apartments were both clear. Bellamy was shocked; how was there no one inside? What if they had missed someone in their haste…Lincoln's voice suddenly filtered over the radio, cutting off Bellamy's rampant thoughts.

"Lieutenant, the studio is clear; do you want us up there with you?"

Bellamy held down the button of the radio and replied, "No, wait outside, Miller and I only have one apartment left to search"

"Copy that, Lieutenant"

The flames were really starting to take over the apartments too. Bellamy looked over at Miller, "One minute, and then we're out." He nodded, probably thinking the same thing Bellamy was. If they don't get out of there soon, they might not get out at all. Bellamy began to sweep through his half of the rooms with some difficulty, as the smoke had well and truly filled the apartment. He called out over the roar of the fire, to see if anyone can hear him, but got no reply. How lucky would they be to find no one in the entire building, it was practically unheard of in a place this nice. If it was a condemned building, it would be understandable. Bellamy made it to the final room in his sector; a bathroom, and on the floor was a blonde girl, curled up in the foetal position and unconscious. She couldn't have been much younger than Bellamy, maybe 20? The same age as his sister. He could almost picture Octavia being the one lying at his feet, except the shock of blonde hair was too strong to make the image of his sister stick, luckily for him. Fear griped Bellamy's stomach regardless; he knew this call was too good to be true. But something caught his eye. The subtle rise and fall of the girl's back. A sense of relief flooded him; she's still alive. Bellamy took off his oxygen mask and went to put it on her face, but as he moved her, he could see that she was using her body to protect a younger girl. A child, no more than 12 years old.

"Oh shit" Bellamy muttered, reaching for his radio, "Miller, I've found two patients, both unconscious, get over here" He lifted the blonde girl into a sitting position and finished putting his mask over her face. She seemed to be in the more critical condition out of the two girls, as the younger one had a damp cloth covering her mouth and nose, protecting her from some of the smoke. Did the blonde do this? Surely the younger one wouldn't have thought to do that on her own. But then why didn't she make one for herself? He looked around the room, but it was bare. Strange to not have any towels or something in a bathroom...

Miller rushed in at that moment, assessed the situation, and straight away went to the little girl to try and wake her. She blinks her eyes open.

"I finished my half of the apartment, I didn't find anyone else. Maybe the other girl is her babysitter." Miller looked toward Bellamy and the blonde girl he was still holding. As the younger girl became more alert, she looked down at the blonde, eyes growing wide with panic.

"Miller, get her out of here," Miller hesitates, probably wanting to see if he'd need help with the blonde, "Now, Miller!" At that, he heads out of the room. Bellamy still couldn't wrap his head around the situation, something was off. There was one thing he did know, however; if there was anyone else left in this building, it would be too late to save them. Hell, at this point, it may be too late to save themselves. He picked up the blonde, who seemed to be breathing a little easier with the mask on. This created a whole new conundrum, because without it, he would be in some trouble. The smoke is getting thicker and the flames are spreading more by the second, so he couldn't wait any longer and make a plan of escape. Instead Bellamy rushed out of the bathroom and out of the apartment carrying the girl in his arms, trying to protect her from the flames the best he could. Descending the stairs was getting harder and harder each landing he made it to, his lungs were filling with smoke, his limbs increasingly feeling like lead. At the final landing, Bellamy was exhausted, and finding it practically impossible to breathe through the smoke. He looked down at the blonde girl in his arms, almost like a silent apology for not being able to get her out of there. God she is beautiful, Bellamy thought, but then he shook his head. You can't think like that while on a job, hypoxia must be setting in or something, not enough oxygen was getting to his brain. No wonder they weren't gonna make it out of there... Just as he was finishing that thought, Bellamy felt a cool breeze wash over him. By some miracle, while in his delirious state, he made it out the front door and was out on the street. He placed the girl on an awaiting stretcher as gently as he could, and brushed a golden strand of hair off her face as she was moved to the nearest ambulance. She was safe.

As soon as she was gone from his view, Bellamy doubled over and coughed black phlegm off his lungs, his breathing laboured. A paramedic rushed over to him, trying to get him into an ambulance where the oxygen is, but Bellamy immediately brushed her off. Well, tried to anyway, Lincoln had other ideas. He grabbed Bellamy by the upper arm and dragged him to an ambulance.

"Don't be an idiot, Bellamy. How long were you in there without your mask on? You need to go to hospital to be checked out for smoke inhalation." He gave me an exasperated, but concerned look. Bellamy tried to argue, but before he could say a word, the coughing started again. Lincoln shook his head, "I'll strap you down if I have to. You may be a lieutenant, but that doesn't make you invincible or, apparently, any less of a dumbass. Honestly you could have died in there". As if to prove his point, the sound of the water hoses and frenzied firefighters reached his ears. He knew better than to argue, mainly because Lincoln was right, not that he'd ever admit it. Bellamy lay down in the ambulance, and an oxygen mask was placed over his face. Bellamy closed his eyes, pleasantly surprised to see the face of the blonde girl printed on the back of his eyelids. He couldn't help but think that she looked like an angel who had fallen to earth in a blaze of glory. A smirk pulled at his lips at the thought, why did his thoughts always go back to fire?

 **A/N: Hi guys, so I'm back writing again! I don't know where this story came from, it just popped into my head and I had to write it. I plan on writing some more chapters soon, but knowing me, some may take a while, depending on when inspiration strikes. All chapters will be from either Bellamy or Clarke's perspective, and there might be some overlap so we get to see how both of them feel in a certain situation. It may change mid chapter, but I will always put who's perspective it is at any one time. So I published this chapter earlier and then took it down because it was really, really bad. So hopefully it is a little better now. Let me know what you think of this initial chapter, any and all feedback is welcome. The writing will hopefully get better in future chapters, I'm a bit rusty. Also, since I'm Australian, some of the spelling may be a little weird for any American readers, and I'm not familiar with the California, or America in general, so if you find that I've misspoken about a place and can offer some feedback to make it more accurate, I would be extremely grateful.**


	2. Chapter 2 - In the Fires of Hell

_Chapter 2 – In the Fires of Hell_

 **A/N: Okay, so the language is a little bit stronger in this chapter, you have been warned**

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Bellamy

Hospitals are hell on Earth. Especially, when there's nothing wrong with you to begin with.

Bellamy tried not the physically groan with annoyance whenever the doctor came in the room to check his vitals. It was bad enough that he was stuck with the irritating oxygen mask covering half his face, but he'd be stuck here for hours, longer than any other smoke inhalation check-up he'd been forced to endure before. Then there was the constant stream of worried texts from Octavia. He vowed to throttle whoever clued in Octavia that he was in hospital in the first place. He had only just managed to convince her to stay away from the wretched place.

 _Octavia: Why are you in hospital, Bellamy?! I'm coming down right away. WHAT HAPPENED?!_

 _Bellamy: Calm down, and don't you dare come down here! You know how much I hate being fussed over. I'm completely fine, just a routine check-up because I had to take my mask off on the job._

 _Bellamy: Wait, don't you have work right now?_

 _Octavia: Maybe, but that's not the point! You're in hospital! I'm coming straight there!_

 _Bellamy: Oh, no you're not! I'm practically leaving the hospital right now anyway. I'll see you tonight when you finish your shift._

 _Octavia: Okay then… but only if I get to fuss over you when I get home!_

 _Octavia: Take it or leave it, tough guy._

 _Bellamy: Fine, you win. I love you, O. Now get back to work, you slack ass._

 _Octavia: You're such a prick._

 _Octavia: But I love you too, big brother xxx_

A sigh of relief escaped his lips. Whatever fretting he would have to deal with at home is a much more welcome punishment than having to see Octavia in this hospital again. There was a reason he never told her that he was there in the first place. Aurora Blake suffered and died in the very hospital he was currently stuck in, the cancer eating away, not just her body, but her very spirit. The Blake siblings watched as their lively mother had everything about her personality destroyed by the hellish disease. They had to sit there, day after day, helpless to stop the inevitable. Just because he had to back there, reliving the pain from the worst period of their lives doesn't mean Octavia had to as well. It wasn't fair. Three years had passed since their mother died, reaching out for her children in her hospital bed, in unspeakable pain, and he hadn't for a second stopped despising his mother's doctor for what she allowed Aurora to go through in her last moments. It was supposedly against protocol to give her any more morphine, as it could cause an addiction. As if she had time to become addicted! She was dying for fuck sake!

Bellamy forcibly tears his mind from his destructive thoughts. He didn't want to raise his heart rate too much, in case the doctors think he was worse off than he was. Realistically, he could have left of his own volition well before this point. Lincoln wasn't around to follow through on his threat to tie him down to the bed, so he could just discharge himself. The lower the medical bills, the better. But he stayed nonetheless. Because the blonde girl was here too. He wasn't being a stalker or anything; he just wanted to talk to her. While confined to his bed, he had only two options: think about his mother, or focus on something else. Up until Octavia, he had been somewhat successfully avoiding thinking about his mother. Instead, he focused on the fire that landed him here in the first place. Something didn't sit right with him. How was the fire so out of control by the time they got there? Why was the building so empty? But there was one question echoing through his mind more than any other; why did she protect the little girl, but not herself? It was reminiscent of so many things he had done in the past; not even thinking about his own life, instead, staying solely focused on saving another, but that was his job. Regardless, he felt some sort of strange connection to this girl. He could understand her. Well, at least somewhat.

When the doctor came back to finally give him the okay to leave, Bellamy struggled to keep from saying 'I told you so', right to their face, instead he nodded and headed to the front desk where the discharge papers were. Once he was all signed out, he looked down at the young nurse tapping away at her computer.

"Um, excuse me. I'm a firefighter," Bellamy looked down at himself as he said this, cursing internally. He was wearing his firefighting coat, what else could he be? _Dumbass, get it together Blake!_ He puts on his best smile, "I brought in two girls today from a fire. One brunette, about 12 years old, with smoke inhalation, and a blonde, about 20, who was unconscious at the scene. I was wondering if you could tell me how they're doing." Once he got his foot out of his mouth, he seemed to have charmed the nurse. It wasn't like he didn't know he was good looking, objectively, but he hated using his looks to manipulate others. This time just happened to be an exception to his usual rule. He obviously knew about patient confidentiality and all that, so he didn't have much hope that it would work anyway, but she smiled up at him, a little goofily, and then typed something into her computer.

"Okay, Mr Blake, they're both fine as far as everything here says. The little one is clear of smoke, and is mainly a little shaken up. She is just waiting to be discharged as we speak. The older one is a little trickier. She inhaled a lot of smoke, but it says here that she has regained consciousness and is improving."

Bellamy feels his shoulders sag in relief. He got them out in time. "Thank you so much. Is there any way I could talk to the older girl? I just have a question that's bugging me about the situation, and I think she can answer it." The nurse hesitated at this. Telling him they were okay is one thing, but showing him the patient's room was another. She looked around the reception area, eyes fixing on a passing doctor.

"That's Dr. Tsing; she's the girl's doctor. I'll leave it up to her to see if she's up for visitors." She catches the doctor's eye and waves her over.

"Thank you," he gave the nurse a grateful smile. Guilt twinges in his stomach; she put her job on the line for him.

Before he heads toward the doctor, the nurse speaks again, "Hey, firefighter." Bellamy turns around, catching the mischievous look on the nurse's face, "Considering the huge favour I'm doing you, I think the least you could do is give me your number." Bellamy laughs. Good on her for going what she wants, he couldn't help but be impressed by her guts. She was cute, that couldn't be denied, with curly brown hair tied up in a neat ponytail, a round, open face.

"I'll make you a deal, if I get the answers I want, I'll come back here before I leave and give you my number." He gave her a cheeky grin, making her laugh, her eyes crinkling in an adorable way. "I take that as a deal then"

Walking the final steps over to Dr. Tsing, it was clear that she was irritated by being called over in such an improper manner.

"What do you want? I have patients that need attending to. I don't have time to deal with the whims of a nurse who's trying to jump your bones." Dr. Tsing clearly wasn't known for her bedside manner, but that comment about the nurse was a touch out of line. Bellamy let it slide; he needed to know about the girl.

"This is about one of your patients, doctor. I brought her in, blonde, about 20, smoke inhalation, unconscious." Dr Tsing nods, clearly knowing who he was talking about, "I was wondering if I could speak to her. It's about the fire today. Is she well enough?"

Dr. Tsing considers this for a moment before answering, "She is awake, but she refuses to answer any questions about who she is or what happened to her. It's not that she can't talk, because I heard her thanking a nurse who brought her some water earlier. She's just uncooperative. Maybe you'll have better luck." She directed him down the hallway, and to the room where she was staying, before leaving in the same impatient manner that she arrived. The door to the girl's room was shut, and Bellamy wasn't sure how to proceed. He hesitantly raised his hand and knocked on the door.

"Come in," a quiet voice answered. Bellamy opened the door and peered inside. The room wasn't all that different from his. The same four white walls and sterile feel. The biggest difference was that the room was filled with afternoon sunlight, making the girl's golden hair positively sing. He blinks out of his revere. He was right during the fire, she was beautiful, but the suspicious scowl on her face certainly put a damper on things.

"Hi." That was all Bellamy could manage to say. Her frown deepened.

"Who are you and what do you want?" Her voice was scratchy and quiet, but held an undeniable command to be answered. How the hell was he going to explain why he was there?

* * *

Clarke

Waking up to the beeping of a heart monitor and an oxygen mask on her face wasn't exactly on Clarke's to do list for that particular Saturday. Looking around the room, she knew straight away where she was. Why did this have to be the closest hospital to where she lived? She was going to be spending enough time there as it was when she finished her degree and started her residency, but now she's stuck there for a completely different reason. She wasn't the trainee in this situation, she was the patient. In a hospital bed. Being jabbed with needles. Great. This just added to the clusterfuck of a day she'd been having already.

Her doctor walked in not long after she woke up; Dr. Tsing according to the embroidered name tag on her coat. She quickly and goes to check the monitors to assess her condition, before removing the oxygen mask from her face

"It's good to see that you're awake. I'm Dr. Tsing. Do you know where you are?" Tsing's condescending tone instantly grated Clarke's nerves, but she nodded, wanting this interview over as soon as humanly possible. Tsing didn't look impressed with her lack of verbal communication, "Can you tell me your name?"

Clarke just glared. If she weren't so patronising, she might have actually answered her. Tsing looked like the kind of person who only went into medicine to poke people with things for the fun of it, because it certainly didn't look like she was in it to help people. She also looked like the kind of person who was used to getting her way all the time. Unfortunately for her, Clarke was also exactly like that, and she was pretty sure her stubborn streak would win out this time. Tsing was getting increasingly frustrated by Clarke's silence, which only encouraged her to keep her mouth shut.

"Fine, don't speak. It's probably for the best anyway; you were in a fire and inhaled a lot of smoke. You were also unconscious for a long time, so confusion over the specifics of what happened are to be expected. We plan on keeping you here for a few days until your lungs are completely clear of smoke, and there are no other conditions we need to worry about." And with that, Tsing put the oxygen mask back on her face and walked out of her room, shutting the door behind her. Yep, she was definitely a raging bitch, no doubt about it. Clarke considered the time she was gonna be stuck in hospital. It mightn't be so bad if she could torment Tsing a bit more. She don't know why Tsing but the mask back on her, probably just to be annoying, since her breathing wasn't as bad as it could have been considering the fire she'd been in. Clarke shook her head; now wasn't the time to think about it. Turning on the TV looked like the easiest distraction possible, even though there wasn't much on, she settled on watching reruns of Friends.

Most of the early afternoon passed with little incident. A nurse came in with some water, Tsing soon following looking like the cat who ate the canary. She must have heard her thank the nurse. That didn't make Clarke answer any of her questions though, making Clarke the real winner in the situation. Especially since the oxygen mask was permanently removed, being deemed superfluous. Clarke turned off the TV in favour of the view from her window. The way the afternoon light engulfed the city outside was something that never ceased to amaze her. The brilliant colours erupting all around. It was so vivid; everything looked like it was drenched in fire. It was almost poetic after the day she'd had.

Her wonder over the burning world outside of her window was interrupted by a knock at the door. This automatically triggered her defences. No doctors would knock, especially not Tsing, they'd just walk right in.

"Come in," my voice was softer than usual, whether it was from the lack of talking during the day, or hesitation over the visitor, she wasn't sure.

The door opened slowly, and a head of dark brown curls, and a tanned and freckled face poked its way through the gap. The man's brown eyes surveyed the room before landing on her and staying there. The rest of his body came into view also, the firefighting gear causing her to frown. Why was he still staring and not saying anything? How dense is this guy?

"Hi." At least he had the decency to look sheepish when that was all he had to say. Clarke's wariness increased.

"Who are you and what do you want?" She hated the way her voice made her sound like a two pack a day smoker, but that couldn't be helped. She put as much authority into her voice as possible, she wouldn't be intimidated by the man in front of her. He moved his gaze toward the window, a clear sign that he was feeling as awkward as she was. Clarke just hoped she was better at hiding it.

"My name is Bellamy, I pulled you out of the fire today" His voice was deep and gravelly, and she refused to admit how nice it sounded. She was also shocked. He was the one to save her? It was so obvious, but somehow she couldn't believe he was standing in front of her.

"That doesn't explain why you're here. If you want a thank you for saving my life, here it is. Thanks for saving my life, I'm really grateful. Are we done now?" Clarke's default mode with anyone she didn't know was snark, which was definitely evident now. But for some reason, this was enough to make Bellamy laugh.

"I mean, it's nice to be appreciated every once in a while, but no, I didn't come here for your thanks. It's my job. What I want to know is what happened in there." At that, Clarke felt her expression freeze. No… This is not something she wanted to think about, let alone talk about it. As if sensing this, Bellamy softened his tone, "Whatever happened, I don't think it's your fault, it just doesn't sit right with me." This man was confusing her more by the second.

"Why do you think it wasn't me? I mean it obviously wasn't, but it's not like you know me…" Clarke's voice was incredulous, but he only smiled.

"You saved that little girl. You used your body to cover hers, and you gave her that cloth to cover her mouth. You probably saved her life. The way I found you, I could tell that you didn't, for a second, think about your own safety. Only hers. It is something that I've rarely seen in someone outside of the job. And I doubt someone like that would be responsible for that fire." Clarke couldn't take her eyes off him as he spoke. It was like he was reading her mind. Of course she didn't think of herself in all that chaos. She needed to get everyone safe. She almost didn't succeed.

"Charlotte… She's okay, right? I mean, you said I saved her life, but that doesn't mean she's completely okay," Clarke couldn't keep the worry out of her voice. If only she found her sooner, she might have been able to get her out before the smoke had gotten too thick. Bellamy walked over to her and sat in the chair beside her bed.

"I take it Charlotte was the little girl?" she could only nod, he gave her a reassuring smile, "I was told she is fine and was waiting to be discharged." Clarke let out a sigh of relief.

"Thank you, Bellamy. Really. I don't know what I would have done if she died."

"Can you answer a question for me, though? It's been bugging me all afternoon." At this Clarke froze once more. "Don't worry, it's not about what happened. Well it sorta is, but it isn't at the same time." His kind urging her to trust him. The fact that he saved her and Charlotte's life was the only reason she gave the hesitant nod of agreeance. But his face fell when she did, becoming solemn, and contemplative. It almost looked like pain.

"Start with an easier question, if the one you really want to ask is too hard. I have always found that to help. Build up to the big stuff." He looked grateful for her intervening in his train of thought. As scared as she was about what that question would be, considering it was going to be directed at her, she hated seeing that look on anyone's face.

"Okay, easy question. What's your name? I feel weird thinking of you as _the Blonde girl_ in my head" He gave a nervous laugh, which Clarke returned.

"My name is Clarke. Before you say anything, I know it's usually a boy's name, but I like it." She chastised herself internally for getting so defensive, but she's dealt with people saying the same shit whenever they meet her for long enough to know what people are like.

"Clarke," he lets her name fill the silence between them, "I think it suits you. You don't seem like the kind of person who is exactly as you appear. In a good way." He couldn't maintain eye contact any more. He must be preparing himself to ask the harder question.

"Alright, can't put it off any longer. Curiosity will be the death of me." More nervous laughter, "Why were you so hell bent on saving her? I don't mean why you wanted to, I get that, but why do it without any effort to save yourself? It may seem noble, but to me, it seems like you're trying to make up for something by sacrificing yourself. I only ask because I've seen that look before, and it is more destructive than heroic." Clarke couldn't help the silent tears that fell down her face. Noticing this, Bellamy looked up in shock and reached out his had to brush them away, but stopping short of her face. Clarke scrubs her hand under her eyes. He really could read her mind. Or at least her actions. It was like he was reading the characteristics of her very soul out loud to her. But looking at him, she immediately understood who he was talking about. It was himself. No wonder he wanted answers. He looked so lost, she probably mirrored that exact expression at that very moment.

"I don't know what to tell you Bellamy… I just thought, in the heat of the moment, that whatever happened to me would be worth it if she was okay." The look he gave her told her that they both knew she was holding back, but he only nodded. He understood, she could tell. She had never been able to read someone as easily as she could with Bellamy, especially not in such a short amount of time. Maybe it was because he was a mirror of herself in a lot of ways. Not in every way, but in enough.

"Alright, I'll leave you to rest." He stood up hastily, and headed towards the door, "It was nice to meet you Clarke, I'm glad you're okay."

And with that, the door was closed between them, probably forever. Clarke couldn't help but be sad at the prospect. You don't find that sort of connection every day.

* * *

Bellamy

Bellamy's head was spinning. He lay against the door of Clarke's room, unable to get his thoughts straight. He hadn't even known her half a day, yet he felt like he knew her more than he knew some people after years of friendship. How does that even happen. What shocked him the most was that he didn't want to leave. He hated the hospital more than anything in the world, but he would have been happy to sit by her bed for hours, just talking.

As if to prove a point, Bellamy stormed towards the exit. _I hate this place, I hate this place, I hate this place_ , the mantra echoing through his head, compelling him forward. He stopped when he reached reception. The cute nurse was still there. Suddenly the image of Clarke in her halo of light forced its way into his brain. _No,_ he told himself, _just walk away_. He approached the desk and gave the nurse a smile. She looked up expectantly. Girls like her had always been his type, so why not go for it this time too. He rattled off a bunch of numbers, shot her a wink and walked out the door. He made it to the footpath when his phone vibrated. Pulling it out of his pocket, he saw a new text message.

 _Unknown Number: My name is Gina, by the way ;)_

Maybe the day wouldn't be a total waste. The image of Clarke popped up in his head again. No, definitely not a waste.

 **A/N: Okay! Another chapter down! I didn't know whether to make this one chapter or two, but I managed to get it all in one, so it is about double the length of chapter 1. Hopefully it isn't too long. Don't expect smooth sailing for these two crazy kids! I might not be the best at plot twists, but I have a few curve balls for this ship. But do not fear! I am a bellarke girl through and through, so bellarke will conquer all! I'm warning you all now, don't expect daily updates for the rest of the story! I'm not always reliable with writing. But while the ideas are flowing, updates should keep coming. And if I take too long, nag me. Nagging is a great motivational tool for writers. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed the chapter, and as always, reviews, favourites and follows are greatly appreciated!**


	3. Chapter 3 - Spark of Life

_Chapter 3 –_ Spark of Life

 **A/N: Hi everyone! Sorry the update has taken a little time, but this chapter is nearly 5000 words long, so I hope that makes up for it! Thank you to everyone who has followed, favourited, and/or reviewed this story, you have no idea how much it means to me. I'll talk a little more in the author's note at the end of the chapter, so for now, enjoy!**

* * *

Bellamy

Bellamy was exhausted when he finally made his way back home. The house he and Octavia shared was nothing spectacular; a small brick house, two bedrooms, one bathroom (which caused no end of problems with Octavia insisting on spending hours in there at a time), and a kitchen, dining and living room all melded into one. It was practically the size of an apartment, but it was home. They started renting the house after their mother died, hoping the sparse yard would remind them of the one they grew up in, but it provided very little comfort. All in all, they were as happy as two orphans could be in that house.

Bellamy only ever considered that house a home because Octavia was there. He couldn't imagine living there without her. He could picture the few personal touches she made to the house over the three years they'd lived there: a cuddly (her word, not his) blanket over the couch accompanied by a startling number of pillows, a vase of carnations on the dining table ( _Mother's favourite flowers in her favourite part of the house_ , Octavia would frequently say), and some paintings made by a local artist he'd never heard of. He was pretty sure it was some ostentatious name, like Wanheda or something equally idiotic. But admittedly, whoever this Wanheda was, they had serious talent, with their intricate landscapes and captivating abstracts. Bellamy had caught himself mesmerised by them on more than one occasion. By adding all that stuff together, Octavia made the place look like a home, a place where you would be happy to sit back and relax after a hard day at work, a place where you host parties for friends and family, a place where you would belong. But that wasn't the just the stuff she bought and threw around, it was just her. She brought that spark, that life wherever she went. Bellamy had never seen anyone with as much passion for living as he had seen in his sister ever since the day she was born. She was everything to him, that's why he endured her nagging about the hospital, checking on him. Anything to keep her here, with him, rather than flying off around the world where he couldn't protect her from herself, let alone anyone else. With a sigh, Bellamy walked up the front path to the house. Before he even opened the door, he knew Octavia was home; not because her shift finished half an hour ago, but because of the bombardment of texts he received from her wondering where he was.

 _Octavia: Bellllllll! Hurry up! You should have been home way before me! I know you hate it when I baby you, but it's payback for all the times you babied me. And still do, actually. What's up with that, big brother?! I'm not a child! Anyway, you were in hospital this afternoon, you should be resting at home. As of an hour and a half ago!_

 _Octavia: Bellamy? Answer your phone. Now. This is not the time to ignore me!_

 _Octavia: Okay, I'm officially worried. If you don't reply in 2 minutes, I'm calling all your firefighting buddies to go searching for you, and you know how much grief they will give you. You'll never live down the shame of having your baby sister call them to go find you!_

 _Octavia: One minute, Bell._

 _Bellamy: Alright, alright! Calm down, I'm just getting some food for us. I'm perfectly fine. Not dying in a ditch somewhere._

 _Octavia: You're very lucky mister! I was just about to call Lincoln and get him to lead the search party!_

 _Bellamy: I'll be home in 5 minutes, do you think you can keep yourself together for that long?_

 _Octavia: It better be bloody good food, or I'll be livid, Bellamy Blake. I'm so sick of your shit._

If Bellamy gained anything from Octavia's assault of text messages, it was who tipped her off that he was in hospital in the first place. Since when did her and Lincoln know each other? Why would she call him instead of Miller, especially considering how he and Miller had been friends since the second grade, and had been a constant presence in the Blake household ever since… That was a problem for another day.

Bellamy's hand never quite reached the door handle, as it flew open before he had the chance, leaving his hand hovering awkwardly in front of him. Octavia was a force of nature at the best of times, and while she stood before him was no exception. One of her hands was still holding the door, while the other was firmly placed on her hip. Her hair, usually controlled in a high ponytail or braids, was free and chaotic, the wind causing some brunette strands to cover her face. But it was her eyes that unnerved him – they were completely wild, not to mention an exact mirror of their mother's eyes right before she gave the scolding of the century.

"Bellamy Blake! How dare you worry me like that?! I stayed at work while you were in hospital, purely because you told me you were coming home in a matter of minutes. THAT WAS HOURS AGO!" It was scary how well Octavia channelled their mother when she was mad, especially when everything else about her was the polar opposite. It wasn't like their mother was horrible or anything, but Octavia just saw there was more to life than constantly worrying about the consequences. A free spirit, through and through. But she was still terrifying like this, with a scowl seeming to be permanently etched into her face. "You were supposed to be here resting, not gallivanting around!" At that, Bellamy couldn't help but laugh.

"Gallivanting? Seriously, Octavia? You sound about 50 years old when you say that." He mocked, trying to imitate an old lady's voice. "Gallivanting!" She looked like she was about to explode, which only caused Bellamy to crack up more. He practically had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard when she finally spoke again.

"This isn't funny, Bellamy." Her voice changed suddenly, going very quiet, instantly ending his snickering. It was the same voice she had used whenever she spoke to him about their mother not long after she was diagnosed. It was the sound of worry and fear, and he hated hearing his sister speak in that tone, "I was really scared when I got that call, you know? It was like I was thrown back in time three years and getting the call about mom all over again. You're all I have left, Bell, I can't lose you too. Not now, not ever"

"I'm sorry I put you through that, O, I really am." Bellamy couldn't look her in the eye anymore. He scared the one person in the world he was meant to protect and he hated himself for it. "Honestly, though, I'm fine." When he looked up at his sister, she was giving him a wary look, as if to try and read his thoughts to see if he was lying to her or not. She seemed satisfied with whatever she saw in his face because her own expression relaxed, a small smile replacing her worried frown. Bellamy pulled her into a tight hug. Octavia pulled away first, which would have worried Bellamy, had she not plastered a mischievous grin on her face.

"At least you brought home Taki's, they have the best Chinese food in the city." She snagged the bag from his hand before skipping inside the house, "I was half starving to death waiting for you to come home, you know, so the least you can do is give me some of your food too. Plus, I'm gonna need the added carbs to have the energy to get your dumbass back on the job again. You're not exactly a model patient, if I recall. I mean the last time you got the flu you whinged for days!"

Bellamy couldn't help but shake his head and laugh at his sister's ridiculous antics, and followed her into the house. He knew she was using it as some sort of Octavia style bravado, but it made him smile knowing how much she really cared and worried about him, which may seem strange considering that she is his sister, but it was nice to feel loved every once in a while. It made him feel like she needed him as much as he needed her.

Bellamy had gotten a call from his Chief on the way home from the hospital, relieving him of work for his next shift due to his health. While he repeatedly told him that he was fit to work, and he hated the thought of losing the money that shift would provide, part of him was secretly glad. It meant he got to spend a little more time with Octavia. Between him working 24 hour shifts at the firehouse, and her working two jobs just to keep the house, they barely got to spend any time together. Today, she was working at The Dropship, a small café not too far from where they lived. It did pretty well for itself, but the pay was fairly lousy, even with Octavia's title as manager. This forced her to work nights at Arkadia, a nightclub which was always rife with drunken Stanford students trying to hit on her. Luckily, she worked as a bartender, and wasn't forced to be the entertainment, like their mother had once been. Small blessings. But because of the life she led, Octavia became tough; fearless, even. She didn't let the douchebags she had to deal with scare her. It didn't hurt that she had beat a few of them up one night when they launched themselves over the bar in an attempt to feel her up, so they mostly left her alone now. However, Bellamy fortunately chose the night she had off from Arkadia to get smoke inhalation so he could chill with her on the couch and watch a couple of movies rather than worry about her on the job.

Octavia couldn't help but fuss over him a little bit, checking constantly if he needed anything, if he was comfortable, if he was still breathing okay, etcetera. It was irritating, but reassuring at the same time.

"Come on, O, pick a movie already, and stop badgering me." She rolled her eyes, knowing full well that he enjoyed it when she looked after him rather than the other way around.

"How about we marathon the Fast and Furious movies? See how many we can get through before we pass out." He nods, searching it up on Netflix while Octavia went to the kitchen to make popcorn. It was one of their most binged watched movie franchises, with them both knowing all the movies back to front. Octavia quickly made her way back to the couch with the bowl of popcorn in one hand, and two cokes in the other. They settled in, Bellamy throwing a mountain of pillows onto the floor, while Octavia buries herself in the blanket and half a pillow fort. They were both fast asleep before the end of the first movie.

Bellamy awoke to a sore neck and an achy back. That's what he gets for sleeping on the couch, he drowsily thought to himself. He looked over to where Octavia had fallen asleep next to him, only to find a note in her place.

 _Hey, big brother.  
So, I got called into work at The Dropship… I know I said I would look after you today, but seeing as you're off for an extra shift, I figured we'd need the money. Plus, you hadn't stopped breathing during the middle of the night, so I assume that was a good sign. Also, since you're reading this, you're obviously not dead. Unless it isn't you that's reading this, then I fucked up… Anyway, big brother, I will hopefully see you when I finish my shift at 2. Love you._

 _\- Octavia xxxxxxx_

Letting out a small chuckle, Bellamy placed the note back on the pillows next to him. Of course Octavia would find a way to ramble on in a hand written note. A pang of guilt struck him though, it was his fault she was working, she wasn't completely wrong assuming we'd need the money with him losing a shift and all. It was only nine thirty, so he had plenty of time to kill before she finished work. He picked himself off and padded towards his room. Might as well get some decent sleep in that time. He saw his phone on the bedside table, plugged into its charger. Another favour from Octavia. He looked at his last message from Gina. Bellamy was surprised he wasn't jumping at the chance to see her again, that was usually his M.O., but not this time. Was it because of Clar… No. He shut that thought down immediately, and instead sent a text back to Gina.

 _Bellamy: So, you wouldn't be free this afternoon for coffee by any chance would you?_

 _Gina: I thought you must have given me a fake number since you never got back to me haha. Yeah, I finish at 3. How about you pick me up from the hospital?_

 _Bellamy: Yeah, sorry about that. I would have replied sooner but nearly dying really takes it out of you haha. I'll see you then :)_

 _Gina: Can't wait_

He put his phone back down, and laid back down on the bed, his hands behind his head. Plenty of time to rest up before having to go back to the hospital. Not his ideal date starter, but it seemed unavoidable. Bellamy shut his eyes, drifting off to sleep once more.

Octavia was the perfect middle of the day alarm clock. Without fail, she was home just after her shift, slamming the front door behind her and making a racket in the kitchen, waking up Bellamy instantly. He stretched out, his muscles feeling significantly better than they did when he woke up on the couch. He searched his wardrobe for appropriate attire for his coffee date, while his sister managed to bang every pot and pan in the house. When he finally made it out of his room, he could smell pizza. Apparently, the cacophony of noise she was making was due to the falling mixing bowls and saucepans from the sink onto the floor as she tried to pull two plates from under them.

Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her. "O, you do realise we have more than two plates. Plus, it's pizza, we could have just eaten it from the box."

"Oh, shut it, Bellamy," she says without venom, turning to look at him. As she does, her eyes widen. She gives him a quick once over. "You've got a date, don't you."

Bellamy looked down at his clothes. It wasn't that obvious, just a pair of jeans and black t-shirt. Not exactly fancy dress, but it was clean.

"How the hell could you possibly guess that I was going on a date?"

At that she rolled her eyes, "Oh, big brother, you're so obvious. Not to mention predictable. Whenever you start dating someone new, you go to a coffee shop or something equally casual, and you always wear jeans and a plain, dark tee. It's your tell."

"That's not true, I dress like this all the time!"

Now she was laughing at him, "Don't kid yourself, you're lucky to make it out of your work clothes, gym clothes, or pyjamas. And if you do manage to put something else on, it's always a pair of shorts. Never jeans. Jeans are going out wear. And since we do not have plans, and all your friends are currently on shift, you must have a date."

Bellamy couldn't help but be a little spooked by his sister's assessment of him, but he couldn't deny it either. He didn't have much of a life outside of work, did it really make him that predictable?

"Okay, you're right, I have a date. At 3, so I gotta go." Bellamy walked toward the door, picking up his keys and wallet from the kitchen bench. Octavia's voice called out after him.

"Fine! You're off the hook this time! But you have to tell me about her sooner or later!"

"Whatever you say, O" He closed the door behind him, and made his way back to the hospital.

The closer Bellamy got the hospital, the more nervous he became. He had managed to almost completely avoid that place for 3 years, with the exception of a few scrapes he'd had at work, but not only was he there two days in a row, but he was there of his own volition. The world must be going insane.

Once the doors opened, his eyes instantly fell on Gina, still working behind the front desk. When she saw him, she gave him a full wattage smile, standing up and head towards him.

"You look lovely," he says as he gives her a quick hug. Like him, she was in jeans, but had on a white singlet and red cardigan. She really did look nice. At the compliment, she smiled again.

"Thank you, you're not too bad yourself once you're scrubbed clean of all that icky soot and crap. I'm almost ready to go, I just have to grab my bag. Bellamy barely contained his sigh of relief, grateful to be escaping the hospital as soon as humanly possible. Then Dr. Tsing caught his eye, heading over in their direction. It was almost déjà vu, but this time, it looked like Tsing was actually going to enjoy this conversation judging by her smug expression.

"Ms. Martin. There appears to be some sort of error in the system regarding several of our patients. This requires your immediate attention." Seeing her disappointment, Tsing's smile only grows as she continues, "Oh I'm sure it was just a small mix up and won't take up too much of your, or your friend here's, time."

"Dr. Tsing, I'm off for the day, can't this possibly wait until I'm next on? And why can't the head nurse on shift now take care of it?" Gina didn't have a lot of fight in her voice, already anticipating being shot down by Tsing.

"This could be life or death for one of these patients. Do you really want that on your conscience Ms. Martin? And as for the head nurse, she is otherwise occupied." Tsing turned and began to walk away, her voice trailing behind her, "The sooner you start, the sooner you can leave Ms. Martin."

"Shit." Gina looked up at Bellamy. "I'm so sorry, I really should do this," Bellamy's face fell. He didn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. Gina, assuming his change in demeanour was about their date, not his hatred of the hospital, began to reassure him. "I think Tsing is right, it shouldn't take too long. We can still go out on our date. Just hang around for a little bit, and I'll be back as soon as I can." With that, Gina turned away and headed toward the elevator, giving him an apologetic smile as the doors closed.

With nothing better to do, Bellamy almost turned around to head out the doors, but then the thought of Clarke entered his head for what seemed like the thousandth time that day. Was she still here? He found himself heading towards Clarke's room without before he even consciously decided to do so. It was only when he found himself outside her door and knocking did it occur to him to check if she was still in this room. What if it was some random? That would be ten kinds of awkward that Bellamy was in no mood to deal with.

All those thoughts were pushed from his mind when her voice answered with a simple. "Come in." This time, Bellamy didn't hold back his sigh of relief. Part of him was glad that he had the opportunity to speak to the intriguing blonde girl once again. He walked into the room, and Clarke's face was one of shock.

"Hi, Clarke," Bellamy scratched at the back of his head, feeling slightly awkward anyway. Her gaze was piercing, her eyes practically stripping him, trying to find the reason for him being there. Like the reason lay just beneath his skin. It was slightly unnerving, but he couldn't bring himself to dislike the feeling.

"Bellamy?" Her voice was definitely stronger than the day before, causing a small weight to lift from his chest. "What are you doing here? Is this about the fire?"

Of course that's why she'd think he was there. It wasn't like he had any other reason for being there. Hell, he didn't even know why he was there. Would he sound like an ass if he said he was only there because his date practically stood him up? Um, probably.

"No, not about the fire. I just wanted to check up on you, I guess." At that, Clarke looked even more surprised, if that were even possible. Either he was being really weird (which, at this point, was a distinct possibility), or she wasn't used to people caring about her welfare. "I mean, I assumed you still hadn't given Tsing your name so they couldn't have called any family to come visit." It occurred to Bellamy then, that it was actually something he had thought about. He wasn't completely lying. Even without his awareness, a part of his mind was thinking about her. Some part of him was genuinely concerned that she was okay, and was happy, even while trapped in this horrid place. At his words, she blushed.

"Oh. Um. Thanks for thinking about me, I guess." He'd never seen her so gobsmacked, which is sort of a weird statement because he met her less than 36 hours ago.

"So, how are you feeling?" Bellamy sat down in the same seat he had the day before.

"Like an invalid. It sucks being trapped in this stupid bed. Honestly, I could have left by now, I'm fine." Bellamy couldn't help but laugh. Clarke raised an eyebrow.

"Sorry, it's just that I pretty much said the same thing yesterday. I hate hospitals. My sister wouldn't stop nagging me." Now Clarke was laughing too.

"See, that's an attitude I can respect. Who in their right mind wants to stay in this depressing place?" She frowned at the walls as she spoke.

"You're not wrong there. I was only here for a few hours and I felt like I was losing my mind. At least you have a decent view though. If you were stuck in the same room I had, I could imagine you climbing the walls." The conversation between them flowed so naturally, Bellamy felt like he had known this girl his whole life, not for a day and a half. They were both laughing and smiling. It matched the view outside her window, full of sunshine and life, more than the drab walls inside the hospital room.

"I probably would be. This stupid window is the only thing keeping me sane right now. I like to imagine the lives of the people out there. Give them an outrageous life story, something they would write books about, or start a really cheesy movie franchise for." She pointed toward one of the taller office buildings. "Okay, see that one there? That office holds a business manager who is having a secret affair with his boss's significant other!"

Bellamy rolled his eyes, "Oh really? How cliché of them. Couldn't they be…"

He didn't get a chance to finish because the door burst open with a distraught woman careening into the room.

"Oh, Clarke! Honey! I was so worried!" She draped herself over Clarke in an overly dramatic display of affection and concern. "Why didn't you tell me you were here?! I would have been down here in an instant! If it weren't for the nurses gossiping about a stubborn blonde girl who refused to identify herself. I wouldn't have even known you were here! I tracked Tsing down and showed her your photo and she confirmed it! Oh, darling! Are you okay? What happened?" The woman barely stopped to take a breath. She still would have been holding onto Clarke too if she hadn't been pushed away.

"Mom, I'm fine. Really. That's why I didn't tell you. I didn't want to distract you from your work, because we both know that's what you truly care about." All the humour had drained from Clarke's face when her mother came into the room, her voice was flat. Gone was the girl he had been laughing with, not five minutes ago. In her place was this shell of a person.

"Now, Clarke, you know that's not true! I love you, sweetheart! Now, can you please tell me what happened, or do I have to go find Lorelai and ask her, and you know how much I dislike that woman."

"Fine. There was a fire at the studio, that's it. I breathed in some smoke. I should have been discharged before you ever found out." Bellamy stood up to leave, deciding to give the women some privacy when Clarke's eyes fixed on him, and relaxed. "Mom, this is Bellamy. He's the firefighter who saved my life." The look Clarke gave him clearly said 's _ave me'_. Obviously she didn't have the best relationship with the woman.

It was only then that Clarke's mother seemed to realise there was another person in the room. She turned around to face Bellamy, and his face completely froze. This couldn't be happening. Clarke's mother frowned in puzzlement. It was clear that she recognised him, but couldn't figure out why. Clarke made a sound as if she were about to say something, but that was when Bellamy spoke up, cutting her off.

"You." That was all he said, one word, deadly quiet. Both women looked confused, only infuriating Bellamy further. "You killed my mother!" This time, he wasn't so quiet, his voice raised into a shout. That's when Dr. Griffin recognised who he was, he could see it in her eyes, and by the way her face turned to abject horror.

"Mr. Blake, please, not here." She was trying to placate him. How dare she do that?!

"YOU LET HER DIE IN AGONY! SHE NEVER DID ANYTHING TO YOU AND YOU LET HER DIE SCREAMING!" No one moved or spoke. Bellamy's breaths came in a huffs, everything about his posture and expression screamed fury. "My sister and I watched her die while you did nothing." His voice reverted back to that scary quiet, but inside, Bellamy was just numb. He couldn't believe after all these years of scorning this woman for everything she did to his family, he was standing before her now, and her face was completely blank. She didn't care about him, Octavia, his mother. Of course not. It had been three years after all, and she was just another patient in the long line of sufferers she'd face.

He couldn't stand the sight of her, and by extension, her daughter. That thought sent another pang of pain through him. Clarke. God damn it. Why did she have to be Abby Griffin's daughter? Fuck Abby, and fuck Clarke. He wasn't going to deal with this anymore. After shooting a glare at them both, he storms out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He continues his path until he is well clear of the hospital doors. He stops half a block away and breaks into tears, collapsing against the side of a bus shelter, the face of his mother calling out to him and Octavia playing over and over in his mind.

Bellamy took a few minutes to calm down enough to stop crying and stand up unassisted. He took a few shallow breaths before beginning to walk home. Before he even reached the end of the block, he was struck with a thought. Gina. Fuck. He still had a date with her. He could always reschedule… He was about to do exactly that when he heard her voice calling out behind him. He turns around to see her running towards him, a huge smile plastered on her face and a nervous laugh on her lips.

"Bellamy! Oh my god, I am so sorry that I took so long! No wonder you decided to leave." Another laugh, Bellamy forced a small smile in response, "I guess I'm lucky I caught you just in time. Ready to go? Coffee, right? I'm dying for a decent cup. I hope it's not too far away." When he doesn't respond straight away, her expression started to fall. Not wanting to drag her down into his crap, he tried to mould his face into a more convincing expression of happiness.

"Nope, not far at all, let's go." He placed his hand on the small of her back to guide her along until she was walking at equal pace next to him. She didn't look completely convinced by his smile, a little frown forming.

"Hey, is everything okay, Bellamy? You don't seem all that excited for our date."

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm definitely excited, I was just thinking about when I could get back to work that's all." He must have said something right, because she seemed to relax.

"Straight back to saving the world, right?" She laughed and they continued walking to the coffee shop Bellamy chose. He thought she was oblivious to his mood, but Gina was no fool. What he didn't see is the concerned looks she kept giving him. He wasn't as good an actor as he thought.

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 **A/N: So, what do you think? I know the Bellamy and Clarke interaction was kinda limited in this chapter, but I hope it was enough to keep you all on your toes. I really wanted to establish some more context with the other characters that we'll hopefully see a little more of as the story progresses. Okay, so the reason this chapter took so long, while the second chapter was out within 24 hours, was because I started this story on a whim, I had nothing planned except for the very bare bones of the story. So now, I'm kinda just going with the flow. The next chapter is somewhat planned, so at this stage, it will be almost completely from Clarke's perspective. Lastly, I'd like to address something that was brought up by a guest reviewer. They were wondering if I planned on doing any more content for my other story on the 100, A Day in the Life, and the answer to that is no, I won't be doing any more in that story. What I will do is, if there are any one-shot suggestions you'd like me to write, send them to me in a message, and I'll do my best to do them justice. That includes if you want them done in the universe of A Day in the Life. Thank you to those who have stuck it out through this massive author's note and I hope to see you in the next chapter! Much love guys xx**


	4. Chapter 4 - After the Flames Die Down

_Chapter 4 – After the Flames Die Down_

 **A/N: So I'm back with another chapter! Thank you so much for all the reviews, favourites and followers, they honestly mean the world to me. It was two reviews today that got me inspired to write this chapter, so that is proof that reviews are writers fuel! The more there are, the quicker the chapters come. Feel free to nag me, motivation is something I sorely lack. Anyway, there isn't any direct Bellarke interaction, but I promise there will be next chapter. These early chapters are mainly context building so bear with me. I hope there are enough tid bits to keep you all interested in the mean time. So enjoy chapter 4!**

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Clarke

The scene in the hospital room between Bellamy and her mother kept replaying in Clarke's mind long after he had stormed out of the room. All the colour had drained from Bellamy's face when she introduced them. Concern swelled up in her when she saw this, but that was quickly transformed into shock when he started screaming at the top of his lungs. Clarke couldn't get it straight in her head. What was he talking about? Her mother wouldn't neglect a patient's welfare, even if she is a cold hearted bitch. Her patients are the only thing she puts any time or effort into. But it wasn't just the fact that he was yelling at her mother that caused her no end of torment since he left, but the fact that he looked at her with the same venom that he used against her mother. Like she was poisoned just for being associated with her. There was no way that Clarke would admit how much that look actually hurt.

Her mother hadn't left, they were both sitting in silence trying to process what had happened. Clarke knew the silence had to be broken sooner or later though, especially with all the questions rushing around in her brain. Looking at her mother and her frozen expression, she knew that she would have to be the one to make the first move, because her mother certainly wouldn't.

"Mum, what the hell was that about? How do you know Bellamy?" Her mother makes no move to answer Clarke's questions, she just sat there staring off into the distance. "Mum?"

"Yes, Clarke, I did hear you. It's a long story, and not something you should be worrying about now." She finally turned to look at Clarke, her doctoring smile in place. It was supposed to be comforting, but Clarke only felt patronised. "You need to focus on getting better."

"Mum, I'm fine, really. And I won't be able to rest or anything until I know what is going on. Now, as a doctor, you would want your patient as calm and relaxed as possible, right?" She frowned at Clarke, clearly disapproving her attitude.

"Clarke, don't try and manipulate me into telling you something I don't want to. If I think you need to know, I will tell you. Though you keep pushing me away, I am still your mother, and I don't have to tell you anything." Clarke felt her anger rising.

"Oh, for fu…" Clarke just stops herself before she swears. In any other moment she wouldn't have held back, but judging by her mother's expression, if she wanted answers, she would have to keep her cool. "He saved my life. I would be dead if it weren't for him. He nearly died himself. Now he seems to hate you and I want to know why. If he had known who I was, I want to know if he still would have risked his life to save me. I think I deserve to know that much."

It was clear that her mother was fighting the urge to shake her, but it was clear that Clarke was going to win this argument. Her expression was stormy though. Clarke was used to her mother's moods by now, to the point where she just didn't care anymore. She could be angry at Clarke all she wanted, but it wasn't going to stop her finding out what she needed to know

"Fine, you stubborn girl. But I will only tell you the basics." She went from looking angry to drained in a matter of seconds. This worried Clarke a little bit. She only ever looked like that after a particularly long shift at the hospital, or if some sort of tragedy struck. She would have fought for the whole story until she saw that look. Maybe she was better off not knowing, but she wasn't going to back down now. "Yes, I know Bellamy. His mother was a patient of mine a few years ago, now. His mother was suffering, her death was a matter of when, not if. Bellamy and his sister were there when she died. She was in a lot of pain and there was nothing I could do for her. She called out for her children, screaming…" Her mother's voice sounded as if she were far away, the words coming before she even decided to say them. She snapped back into reality. She shook her head, looking back at Clarke. "He blames me for her death. Well, not so much her death, but the pain she was in." By the time she finished speaking, her expression was completely closed off once more. "Are you happy now, Clarke?" With that, she stood up and walked straight out of the room, closing the door resolutely behind her.

Clarke's mind was whirling. Poor Bellamy. No one should have to witness someone they love suffer, but he and his sister had to. While she was still hurt by how he treated her, she could understand it. Hadn't she practically lost her mind after her father was killed? Didn't she go around screaming at anyone who even mentioned him when she was around? She understood what it meant to lose a parent. Someone who was meant to care for you unconditionally, be there for you through life's happiest and toughest moments. They were meant to make sure everything was okay.

Jake Griffin was the best person Clarke had ever known. He was kind, generous, wise, and loving. And someone killed him. Clarke still couldn't think about her father without wanting to burst into tears. As it was, there were silent tears falling down her face, imagining what her father's last moments would have been like. She only wished that she could have been there so he wouldn't have died alone. At least Bellamy's mother died surrounded by people who loved her, her father never had that luxury. To this day, the police could never determine why someone would corner him in a dark parking lot and stab him to death. They suspected it was due to his work as a prominent engineer at a major company that did high profile work all over California.

Abby Griffin was the complete opposite of her husband. Where he was warm, and loving, she was cold and detached. It only got worse after her father died. When she was growing up, Clarke didn't get a lot of affection from her mother, but at least she was around. After her father was killed, she buried herself in her work. If she wasn't working, she was sleeping in preparation for the next time she had to work. So, when Jake died, Clarke might as well have lost both her parents, not just her father.

From a young age, her mother pushed Clarke into getting the best grades at her private school so one day she could go into medicine just like her. Her father, on the other hand, never cared if she didn't want to follow in either of their footsteps. He always encouraged her to follow her passions. It was because of him that she was in Stanford university studying both medicine and art. The double major was challenging, of course, but it made Clarke feel complete like studying medicine alone would never have done. She hated to admit it, but Clarke did enjoy medicine, the thought that she could save someone's life one day made the hard work worth it. Her passion for art was more than just a hobby as Abby saw it, but it was her main source of income, aside from what money her father left her. She would be the first to admit that the fact that her family was so wealthy allowed her some freedom that she wouldn't have been able to have otherwise, but she wouldn't take it for granted. Clarke worked hard for everything she did, just the same as anyone else.

The door to her room opened. Clarke looked up, half expecting to see her mother, but instead, it was Tsing. Great, because this day couldn't get any worse.

"Clarke, glad to see you're doing better." Tsing never seemed to stop condescending her patients. Clarke wondered what it took to become that arrogant and superior, because she wanted to avoid it at all costs.

"Can I go home yet? I'm fine." Clarke wanted nothing more than to leave this place, and escape all the horrible thoughts associated with this terrible day.

"She speaks! Well, Clarke, that's what I'm here to check. Despite what you may think, I don't want you to be stuck here forever." Clarke rolled her eyes, and Tsing continued to sneer as she walked over to the monitors to check her vitals.

"Isn't checking vitals a nurse's job?" Tsing stopped to glare at her. Seeing her frustration, Clarke pressed on. "Oh, so are you a nurse now? Being a doctor too hard?"

"Just because your mother is the Head of Oncology in this hospital, that doesn't give you a free pass to act with such petulance. I'm just doing my job." Being a condescending cow more like it, but Clarke decided to not voice that particular thought in case Tsing thought to keep her stuck there longer.

After giving everything a once over, Tsing nodded to herself.

"Okay, Clarke, you're free to leave." Giving her one last piercing glare before she left the room, Tsing added, "Oh, and Clarke, when you become a doctor, I hope you get a patient as difficult as you, and then you'll find me and apologise."

"What you don't understand, Tsing, is, that it doesn't matter how difficult the patient is, it is about how you act." Tsing looked stunned, "See, if you didn't act like a condescending cow all the time, I wouldn't have been as difficult. It's that simple." Clarke smirked. She didn't have to keep that thought to herself after all.

Looking flustered, Tsing walked out of the room in a daze, making Clarke chuckle. Serves her right for being a horrible human being, not just to her, but in general.

Clarke signed herself out of the hospital and took a taxi back to her apartment. The outside of it alone looked daunting enough. The building has four floors, with an apartment each floor for the top three, and the studio on the ground floor. The condition of the bricks didn't hint at the chaos that had occurred inside its walls, but the wall to floor glass windows at the front of the studio showed a different story inside. Everything was destroyed. All the surfaces were blackened. All those beautiful artworks and supplies destroyed. Clarke felt tears prickle at the corner of her eyes at the sight of the damage, but felt a wave of relief also. She had moved all her pieces out of the studio the day before the fire. They were sitting safe and sound in the spare room of Raven's apartment a block away. She couldn't imagine what she would have done if they were destroyed. Her paintings were everything to her. Selling them was hard enough, as she put part of her soul into every single one of them, but to think they could have been destroyed… Nothing could have survived that fire. Not in the studio anyway.

Clarke head through the front door of her building and went straight for the stairs. There was plenty of fire damage here too, walls black, the smell of smoke still lingering. She lived on the first floor, right above the art studio, so if anything, she was the most at risk of losing everything. The lock on her front door was broken from where the firefighters would have kicked down the door. She briefly wondered if Bellamy was the one who searched her apartment, but shook the thought from her head. She had to brace herself for what she was about to see. Taking a deep breath, she opened the door to find her apartment completely fine? How was that even possible? Well not completely fine, there was a heavy smell of smoke, and the wood floors looked a little damaged from the fire burning below, but apart from that, everything was intact. Closing the door the best she could behind her, she looked back at the room. Her apartment mostly open plan, with the door opening straight into the large lounge room, with the kitchen and dining room to the left, separated by a breakfast bar. The area looked completely clear of damage, luckily enough.

Clarke went down the hall to the right of the lounge room, checking the small laundry, bathroom, and spare room in turn, all fine except for the smell of smoke. She went into her room last. It was the next largest room aside from the main living area. It had a queen bed in the middle of the wall, a spare easel by the window, and decorated in the same contemporary style as the rest of the house. She loved the look of the different shades of grey, white and black, with a splash of colour here and there. Sophisticated, yet adventurous, just like Clarke herself.

As Clarke looked around the room, she saw her phone on the bedside table. Breathing another sigh of relief, she picks it up, only to see that the battery had died. At least she hadn't lost it, she thought. Finding the charger and turning the phone back on, Clarke found her phone bombarded with messages and missed calls from her friends. The fire must have made the news or something, because this wasn't the first time she'd ignored a bunch of messages. If she were in the zone with her art, she was known to disappear for days and no one really worried. But this level of concern was touching. Raven, Monty, and Jasper had left at least 20 messages between them. She sent a quick message to each, telling them that she was okay, thanking them for their concern, and that she loved them. The replies were almost instantaneous.

 _Raven: Bitch! I was so worried about you! I'm glad you're okay, but why couldn't you call sooner or something?! You know what, I don't care! We have to go out for a drink tonight, no arguments. I'll contact the boys too. They were over here earlier in a panic! Love you too, don't do that to us again xx_

 _Monty: I'm glad you're okay, Clarke. If you were AWOL much longer, we were going to start a hospital by hospital search for you. Love you too xx_

 _Jasper: CLARKE! YOU'RE ALIVE! YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO SCARE US LIKE THIS! YOU'RE THE RESPONSIBLE ONE, DON'T LEAVE THAT JOB TO US! MUCH LOVE CLARKE!_

She couldn't help but laugh at her friend's antics. Why must Jasper always use caps lock? Monty at least could be relied on to keep his calm over text, unlike the other two. Raven was right though, amongst her other chastisement, they could all use a drink or two after the last couple of days, though how she managed to type all that out in a matter of seconds will always be a mystery to her.

Leaving her phone in her room, Clarke went out to the kitchen, grabbed a bottle of water and collapsed on the couch. There wasn't much on TV at this time of the day aside from reruns, so after settling on an old episode of Bones, she stared out the window. The fire escape immediately caught her eye. It was the one she told the others to use so they could get out of the building.

She could picture what happened that day so easily. Rather than working in the studio like she wanted to, she'd been buried in med coursework that she had to finish. Lying on the couch with her laptop, she started to smell smoke. After checking the apartment, she opened the front door to see if she could figure out where it was coming from. That's when she felt the heat radiating from downstairs. Clarke ran down the steps to see the studio completely alight. Without a second thought, she ran back upstairs, this time to the second floor and began banging on the door. The Vie family lived there, just Vincent and his daughter Maya. He answered the door, clearly annoyed at her assault on the door, but stopped whatever he was going to say when he saw Clarke's expression. She told him to call the fire department, and to get out the fire escape. There was no way out the front door, not with the flames as intense as they were downstairs. Luckily there was a lot of flammable items in the studio, because that was stopping the fire looking for something else to burn, namely, their homes.

After Vincent left, Clarke ran up to the top floor where little Charlotte lived with her parents. No one talked about what happened in the top apartment, since the few times the police had been called there, nothing was done. No one was opening up when she banged on the door, but Clarke knew that there was a possibility that Charlotte was left alone once more. The door was unlocked, so she ran in, in search of Charlotte. She found the girl coughing in her bedroom, the smoke having already made its way up there. She picked her up and carried her towards the fire escape, only to find it twisted and broken. Clarke knew she'd never make it downstairs to the fire escape at the Vie house, because the smoke was too thick. They had no escape.

She carried her to the bathroom. At least the tiles would burn slower than the wood floors, plus, they could always turn on the water. She reached for the shower tap, only to find there were none. None for the bath either. Clarke started to panic. Not so Charlotte could see, her eyes already wide with fear. Thinking back to all the shows about fire, Clarke searched around for a towel or handkerchief, but only finding a single face washer. It would have to do for their needs. The sink still had taps, so she dampened the material, and told Charlotte to tie it around her mouth and nose, and that it would help her breathe. She did so without hesitating, trusting Clarke wholeheartedly. This made her heart break a little, because this little girl had so much faith in her, but she didn't even know if they'd make it out alive. She told Charlotte they were going to play a game. That she was going to hide under Clarke, and it was the job of the other secret player to see her. It was a good thing Charlotte was so scared, or she would have questioned it. Such a game was too young for her, but fear is a powerful motivator. And then Clarke began to cough. More and more each minute. It wasn't long until it became too much, and she was unconscious. As she was being dragged under, she couldn't help but think she was grateful that she wouldn't have to feel the flames scorch her.

Bellamy had asked her about what happened, but she couldn't tell him. She couldn't tell the person that saved her life that she had accepted the fact that she was going to die, it felt like she was being ungrateful for his heroics. Also, it was just too terrifying to think about, at the same time. Just because she had accepted that she was going to die, didn't mean she wasn't scared. Clarke, in that moment, had been more scared than she ever felt possible.

Clarke drew herself back into reality. There was no point dwelling on what had happened. Everyone was okay. Well she assumed the Vie's were okay, she never found out what happened to them. Contemplating whether to go up and check on them, she heard a knock on the door, before a bossy voice was muffled by the closed door.

"Bitch, open up! It's time to drink away our feelings!" Of course Raven would show up early to drag her down to the club.

"It's open, Rae."

Raven glided through the door with her usual swagger. She looked amazing, with her dark hair out of its usual ponytail and swaying around her shoulders. A singlet top, in a bright, shimmery copper colour, made her look like a goddess, matched with tight black leggings and knee high black boots. The girl knew how to make an entrance. She shamelessly gave Clarke the once over and frowned. Clarke usually would have felt self-conscious over this brisk assessment, considering she was lying around in sweats, but today was an exception.

"Hey, I could have died yesterday. I just got out of the hospital. I'm allowed to look like shit." Raven looked like she was considering Clarke's words before nodding.

"Okay, I accept that reasoning, but you're not going out like this. Go shower. Now. I'll pick out your outfit." She pulled Clarke off the couch and shooed her towards the bathroom. "You'll thank me when you no longer smell like a burning ember."

Clarke rolled her eyes, but went into the bathroom. Raven was right, but she wasn't going to give her the satisfaction of actually telling her that. She had a big enough ego for a mechanic as it was.

The hot water unknotted some of her muscles, making her almost moan in happiness. The smell of her coconut body scrub filled her nose. It was nice to smell something that wasn't pure antiseptic or smoke. After emerging from the shower, wrapped in a white fluffy towel, Clarke almost felt human again. Walking across the hall into her room, she found the clothes Raven chose for her laid across her bed. A black cropped halter top with an x crossed back, and high waisted white skirt. Perfect. At least she knew she'd look good, Raven never picked something someone wouldn't look hot in. Just as long as you weren't as gorgeous as she was, all would be well.

Walking out of her bedroom and into the lounge room, Raven whistled.

"Damn girl, you do look fine, if I do say so myself." Clarke laughed. The whole night just felt right. It was like life was finally getting back to normal. Raven looped her arm through Clarke's, "Now, let's go out and make some boys drool. Maybe one will finally be good enough to take home, eh Griffin?"

They both laughed as they left the apartment, but only one face flashed across Clarke's mind. A face with dark curly hair, a spattering of freckles, and a cheeky grin.

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 **A/N: So that's the end of chapter 4. A few more characters thrown in, plus a look into what happened during the fire. What do you guys think? Feel free to leave a review - good, bad, doesn't matter. It all helps me to make the story better for you guys, and that's what matters. This chapter was originally going to have way more plot points, but this chapter was getting long as it is, so the second half of this chapter will now be chapter 5, which I will hopefully write soon. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I hope to see you at the next one xx**


	5. Chapter 5 - A Blaze of Fear

_Chapter 5 – A Blaze of Fear_

 **A/N: Thank you all again for your favourites, follows, and reviews! I love the questions and comments you have for the story, so feel free to keep them coming! I almost had to split this chapter up again because it was going to be too long, but since I didn't, I hope some parts aren't too rushed for you guys. Anyway, enjoy!**

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Clarke

Clare couldn't deny that she was in desperate need of a few drinks after the chaotic two days she had just faced. Something about nearly dying and have the person who saved your life scream in your face really makes you want to down a few tequila shots. Raven and Clarke walked the few blocks to the closest club to Clarke's apartment. The Dropship wasn't their usual haunt, but they had been there often enough to know that the drinks came fast and the music was loud. Perfect for trying to blur out her thoughts, or at the very least keep her distracted for a few hours.

Raven walked straight up to the bouncer. He was a menacing dude, towering over everyone in height, and his long hair tied back in a ponytail. He looked more like a gangster than a bouncer, he even had some wicked scars on his face to prove it. Raven gave him a big smile, which he returned, and he waved the two girls inside, earning a groan from the other people lining up outside the club. A part of Clarke wanted to ask what the hell just happened, but the other part told her she was better off not knowing. Raven was a mystery wrapped inside an enigma sometimes, and she thought that was exactly how the girl wanted to appear. As if she were sensing what she was thinking, Raven turned around and gave her a wink as they approached the bar. Clarke raised an eyebrow at the other girl, earning an eye roll in response.

"Clarke, darling, don't give me that look. He's an old buddy of mine. From Hell." Suddenly it made a whole lot more sense. Raven rarely talked about her days working for the military as a mechanic, and Clarke never pushed for details. All Clarke knew was that it was an experience she never wanted to relive. Even though she was only there for two years, and never saw actual battle, she saw the people who came back from it, and then there were those who never came back. That kind of experience left a mark on your soul that could never be erased. Neither are the friendships you make out there. "He sends me a message most nights telling me where he's working, if he's in town. Let's me and anyone with me in without a second glance."

Clarke grabbed her friend's hand and gave it a quick squeeze, knowing how hard it was to think back on those times. She'd only been in that horrible place because it was the only way she could afford to become a mechanic. But what she had seen over there, and what she had to deal with coming home, had the potential to turn her into an ice-cold bitch, instead she truly became a badass. Raven gave her a brief, sad, smile, before switching on the bravado and walking the rest of the way to the bar. Without a doubt, Raven was the strongest person Clarke had ever met.

"Okay, so what's the plan for tonight?" As Clarke asked the question, she tried to hail a bartender, with little success. The place was crazy for a Sunday night. "Drinking, and…?"

"Well, Monty and Jasper should be meeting us here any minute, I asked Roan to let them right in. So, when they get here we need to be sufficiently tipsy, or they'll end up giving us their moonshine and we'll be on the floor. Remember last time?" Clarke did remember, and the memory brought a smile to her face. While they had been out drinking, celebrating something or other, the reason long since forgotten, the two boys, sensing that neither herself or Raven were drunk enough for the festivities, offered some of their home-made moonshine that they always seemed to have on them. Naïve to the effects of their concoction, they both downed a significant amount, almost earning them a trip to the hospital. What it did earn them was one hell of a hangover that lasted a solid 3 days. Needless to say, they had since learned from their mistakes. They might as well have been drinking rocket fuel, and for all they knew, they could have been. Even with the negative effects of the night, Clarke classed it as a good memory. She had the best people around her, even danced with a gorgeous boy who made her heart melt. Or so she thought. Later the boys told her they never remembered her dancing with some dude, but to this day, Clarke still insisted he was real. She just wished she had gotten his number as proof. But knowing her luck, it would have been some creep that she would regret ever meeting. That seemed to happen to her more than she'd care to admit.

Before Raven had a chance to provide the rest of the details about the night's events, a bartender finally made their way over to them. A pretty, young, girl with brunette hair up in a high ponytail, and lively eyes. She couldn't be much older than 21 herself. Clarke found herself appreciating her looks, but not wanting to hit on her, which was a first. This girl was exactly her type. Instead, she offered the girl a smile and ordered 4 shots of tequila. The girl returned her smile and quickly poured the shots. Clarke handed over the money, and just as the girls were about to leave to go find a table, the bartender called her back. Clarke waved Raven along; she had seen a free area not far off and she didn't want to lose it. Clarke walked back over to the bar where the bartender was pouring two more shots.

"Here, you looked like you could use them." Clarke was pulling out some money when the girl stopped her. "Don't worry about it, they're on the house." But before she could walk off, Clarke put the money in her hand.

"Consider it a generous tip then." The girl smiled, clearly appreciating the gesture.

"And to say thank you, I'll make sure the drinks keep flowing your way as long as you want them, and can pay for them." And with that, the bartender was off to deal with her next customer. Clarke was suddenly reminded of another kind soul with dark eyes as she walked away from the bar, but she quickly shook it out of her mind. There was no point on dwelling on something she was trying to forget. She downed one of the shots hoping it would help. It didn't really, but the second one sorta did. Raven caught her eye and gave her a thumbs up as she approached the table.

"That's my girl." She quickly downed two shots herself so they were even. "Did you hit on the bartender? She seemed nice, not to mention good to look at."

"Trust me, I noticed, but I just wasn't feeling it." Looking back over at the bar, she saw the girl whizzing around, seemingly having the time of her life even though she was working and some pervs were trying to hit on her. She just blissfully ignored them. "I reckon she would make pretty good company though." She looked down at the extra shots. "Free drinks at the very least."

"Priorities. I like it." Both girls laughed as they took their final shots. Clarke was definitely starting to feel the buzz. Raven looked over towards the entrance of the club, and a big smile lit up her face. "Well if it isn't two of my favourite borderline criminals!" She half ran, half fell, into Jasper and Monty, enveloping them in a hug. They always joked how close the two boys were to being arrested on more than one occasion for their moonshine, but now Raven seemed to be using that to convince them she was drunker than she was. Smart move if you wanted to keep off their moonshine radar. After Raven released them, she went to order more drinks while the boys pulled Clarke into a tight group hug.

"Don't you dare scare us like that again, okay, Griffin?" Jasper's voice echoed in her ear, as he refused to release her from the hug before chastising her.

"I'm sorry for scaring you guys so much. Honestly, I'm fine though." They still held onto her. "Really, guys, perfectly fine." When their squeezing got to be too much, she tried to push them off as nicely as she could. "I won't be fine if you keep squishing me like this though." They quickly released her, with Monty fixing her with a sharp gaze.

"You sure you're okay? You were in hospital overnight, that tends to mean something not so fine." He mightn't be a doctor, but he wasn't stupid.

"It was just for observation. I breathed in a fair amount of smoke, but that's all." Seeing as she actually gave them an answer, they seemed satisfied. Just in time for Raven to return with more shots.

Dancing was definitely a must, and since she couldn't get the face of a certain boy out of her head, she needed the distraction. Clarke knew that people found her attractive, so she could have danced with any number of people, but pulling Raven up to dance with her seemed like the safer option. Realistically, she didn't know what lengths she'd go to wash away the mental image of how he looked at her before storming off. It was haunting her, and she couldn't work out why. Clarke tried to let the rhythm of the music flow over her like it usually did, and she finally started to let go and enjoy herself fully. Sensing this, Raven loosened up as well. It was obvious she'd been worrying about Clarke, not that she knew the real reason behind her friend's weird mood.

It didn't take long for Clarke to get tired, the drinks having a greater effect on her than she'd first anticipated. The boys, who had not long got up and joined the two girls, followed her back to their table.

"Hey, Clarke. I forgot to mention it earlier, but I invited my boyfriend to join us tonight. You cool with that? I know tonight is meant to be all about celebrating you're alive and stuff, but I haven't seen him for a few days because of work, and I miss him." Clarke couldn't help but be shocked by his question.

"Monty, why would you ever think I wouldn't be okay with Nate coming tonight? I mean I'm glad I'm not dead, and I'm glad you guys are glad, but you should spend time with your guy!" Her words were only a little rambly, but she made her point. Monty looked relieved.

"I don't know, maybe because you two don't know each other all that well yet? I just wouldn't want you to think he's crashing."

"That's sweet of you, Monty, it really is. But if you care about him, I will too. Unless he's bad to you, then I'll kick his ass." Clarke make karate chop gestures, nearly taking out an empty glass that was sitting on the table. "But it might have to wait until I'm sober…" This caused both boys to laugh, but the relief was still clear on Monty's face, which made Clarke feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Whether that was from making Monty happy, or from the alcohol, the jury was still out on that verdict.

Monty pulled his phone out of his pocket, and his face fell. "Turns out Nate can't make it anyway, he's just pulled a double shift and is exhausted." Jasper put a comforting hand on his best friend's shoulder.

"Oh, Monty, I'm so sorry…" Before Clarke could even finish speaking, Monty's face lit up once again.

"He wants me to come over anyway. He says he misses me too much to waste an opportunity to see each other." He looked at Clarke and Jasper cautiously. "You don't mind me bailing, do you?"

"Go get your guy." Clarke hugged him, "We can all catch up next time." Raven made her way her way back to the table, sensing the night was coming to an end.

"We should all bounce anyway, they just changed DJs and this guy is way shit." They all stopped to listen to the horrible mashup of songs the DJ was playing and cringed in unison. She wasn't wrong.

They all headed to the front of the club so they could hail a cab. Monty took the first one after everyone's encouragement. No one really knew Nate, except for Jasper, but he made Monty happy so everyone was supportive, to the point where they practically pushed him into the cab. Keeping them apart when he was like this just seemed too cruel. When Jasper took the next cab, Raven turned to her.

"Clarke, you don't mind if I crash at yours for the night? My place isn't as close as yours and I really don't feel like getting a cab." She only nodded, earning her a suffocating hug from her friend. The girls linked arms and walked back to Clarke's apartment

"Thanks for tonight, Raven, really. It was perfect." Raven laughed.

"Of course it was, I planned it!" Mechanic's egos are impossible. "But it would have been better if one of us found someone worthy of taking home." A face flashed across Clarke's mind once again, but it was getting easier to block, the alcohol doing its job.

"What do you mean?" Clarke tugged her friend's arm. "I already did." Giving the girl a wink they made the rest of the way to Clarke's in happy silence. Raven fell onto the bed in the spare room without even bothering to take her shoes off. Clarke followed suit, stumbling into her own room, with enough presence of mind to change into an oversized t-shirt and fall into bed. Realistically, it was a miracle they made it up the stairs at their level of intoxication, let alone to the bedrooms. At least she wouldn't wake up on the floor. Even as she was finishing the thought, Clarke was asleep.

The first thing that Clarke noticed when she woke up was the dull thumping in her skull.

"Ugh." She forgot to close her curtains before going out the night before, so the early morning sun was directed straight into her face. She pulled the quilt over her head when another voice spoke.

"Why do we always do this to ourselves?" Opening one eye, and slightly shifting the quilt away, Clarke looked down to find Raven laying on the ground, protected from the light by the shadow of the bed. She must have wandered in here sometime while she was still dead to the world. Her arms were over her head, so she was obviously feeling as shitty as she was. However, seeing her friend in such a pitiful state, ironically, made her feel better. Clarke half rolled, half fell, out of her bed, and shuffled towards the bathroom. She looked in the mirror, only to find her hair going in every direction, and makeup slightly smeared. She shrugged; she'd looked worse. Turning the tap in the shower, Clarke forced herself under the cool spray. She'd been hungover enough to know that whilst the assault of cold water sucked, it would be the only thing that could get her going within the hour.

Once she started to feel less like a zombie, she walked back into her room, finding Raven still passed out on the floor. After quickly dressing in her sweats from the day before, Clarke grabbed a squirt bottle, and turned it on her friend.

"What the fuck?" Wiping the water from her face, she turned to Clarke. "Ugh, bitch. How is it fair that you manage to look so good when you're hungover?"

Clarke couldn't stop laughing at Raven's grumpiness. "That's why I sprayed you. Cold water helps with my hangover, thought I would test to see if it helped yours. But then again, you went and got more shots than I did, so that's on you." She offered her a hand to help her up off the floor, which Raven accepted. "Plus, I got shit to do today that doesn't include nursing your hungover ass back to health. So do you for that matter." Raven grumbled as she walked towards the bathroom, probably in the search of something to help her headache.

Clarke didn't think her stomach was quite up for anything too heavy, so for breakfast, she just poured herself a glass of water. It was surprisingly early, not long past 9am, giving her plenty of time to prepare for the stall that afternoon. Opening her laptop, she went to all her social media pages for her artwork, choosing a couple of photos that would draw in the most customers. Usually, Clarke sold her paintings online, but Raven encouraged her to broaden her client base by opening a stall in a local fair. It was known for providing a platform for local artists and tradespeople wanting to sell their stuff. She'd visited before, but never had her own booth, and the thought terrified her. What if no one showed up? What if everyone there hated her stuff? That would be her worst nightmare made reality. You would think that a small art stall wouldn't warrant this level of terror considering the ordeal she had gone through two days earlier, but to Clarke, the worst thing that could happen in the fire was die, this could ruin one of her greatest passions for her. That would be a fate worse than death.

While contemplating all of this, she wandered back into her room and picked up her paintbrush and began working on the small canvas that was in her room. The world disappeared around her as she painted, it was the only time she could truly think clearly. All the pain, fear, and doubt that had been plaguing her since the fire drained out of her and onto the canvas. By the time she was finished, the painting in front of her proved to be one of the darkest pieces she'd ever created. It was by no means beautiful, but it was real. Free of the trance of creation, Clarke wandered back into her kitchen to find that it was already 1pm. Shit. The fair opened at 3, and she still needed to get ready and set up. Raven had left a note on the fridge.

 _Saw you zoned out in your work. Hope it helps you deal with this shit. I'll meet you at the fair when you're done. I'm going there to start setting up since I don't know how long you'll be. Oh, and you should bring that piece you were working on, it looked great._

Raven had a point about the painting. With all the dark swirling lines, it was definitely one of her better paintings lately. So emotionally charged. But part of her was reluctant to take it to the fair. All her paintings revealed a part of her soul, but this one held more than the others. It showed her primal fears and doubts. It was the side of herself she always tried to hide. No one would appreciate it like she would. But you can't hold on to your doubts forever, having them haunt your every decision…

The inner battle of thoughts raged on while she reheated a slice of pizza from the fridge, ate it, and changed her clothes for the fair. She picked up her purse, keys, and phone, ready to walk out the door, before she turned around and ran back to her room. The painting was too good to hold onto. She picked it up, and walked out of the apartment, careful to not let the drying paint stain her outfit. She was wearing one of the few shirts that wasn't permanently stained with paint, and she wasn't about to change that.

Luckily, the fair was only a few blocks away, held in a large park, close to Raven's apartment, so she could walk there with relative ease. The place was already buzzing with vendors setting up their stalls. The set up was easy enough to follow, with the stalls forming a ring following the border of the park, and an inner ring facing out towards them. It was like a donut. The thought made her stomach rumble. Raven was in the smaller, inner ring, facing the border of the park, away from the trees that could drop leaves and other nasties all over Clarke's artwork. By the looks of it, she had almost finished setting up. She had laid a tarp over the ground, with three small tables all holding multiple pieces of her artwork, while the table legs supported others. It was truly a great sight to behold. Raven saw her approach and gave Clarke a reassuring smile.

"There she is. The great artist! Descended from her ivory tower to bestow upon us mere mortals, feats of artistic brilliance!" While her words dripped sarcasm, you could tell it was well intentioned, as the look in her eyes were full of pride. "And you brought the latest masterpiece, give me a look at it." She plucked her new piece from Clarke's hands and gave it a long look. It didn't take long for tears to form in Raven's eyes. She put the piece down and pulled Clarke into a tight hug. "I'm so sorry for what you went through." Clarke hugged her back with ferocity. Very few people could read Clarke's art as well as Raven could, but that was because even fewer people knew as much about her as Raven did. She wasn't surprised that she could see the real her within the painting.

Pulling away slowly, Clarke went to rearrange certain pieces so they flowed by a certain theme. It wouldn't make sense to an outsider, but Raven gave a nod of approval, understanding what she was doing. Her latest piece was mostly hidden by other larger ones. Part of her was still reluctant to let it go to someone who wouldn't understand it.

A murmur made its way around the different vendors at the park. The fair was about to begin. Clarke was to look after the stall itself, while Raven, acting as her unofficial agent, would walk around the fair sussing out the other artists, and steering customers Clarke's way. As the first drabble of customers wandered around the stalls, Clarke's nerves kicked up to 11. There was always a small voice in her head telling her that her work wasn't good enough, but right now that voice wasn't so small. However, people kept coming to the stall. They all gave her a friendly smile, sometimes asking about the inspiration behind the work, sometimes making a sale. As the afternoon passed, the negative thoughts were pushed further back into her mind, until it was practically gone altogether.

After the first hour, things were going smoothly. She had sold 7 paintings, while others had happily taken a business card that Raven had the genius to print. Monty and Jasper designed them for her, so they looked wicked. Overall, her spirits were high. This good mood continued when a petite brunette girl made a beeline for her stall. The pretty bartender from The Dropship. When the girl made it to the stall, her eyes widened.

"No way, you're Wanheda." When Clarke nodded her head, the girl broke out into a huge smile. "That is crazy! I knew there was a reason I liked you last night. Wow, this is such a bizarre coincidence." The girl was shaking her head in amazement. "You're seriously one of my favourite artists in the city. There's something so real about everything you paint. I've ordered some of your stuff before, but when I saw that you were doing a stall here, I just had to come." Clarke was truly humbled by the girl's speech.

"Wow, thank you so much. You have no idea how much it means to me that you love what I paint. The fact that you can see the emotion behind it, too? Very few can, so that's touching. Feel free to have a look around here, and let me know if there's anything that catches your eye."

"They all catch my eye!" They both laugh. "Oh, I'm Octavia by the way."

"I'm Clarke. Actually, now that you mention it, I remember seeing your name on some of the order forms. You always seem to buy my favourite pieces." Octavia's eyes widen.

"No way!" She tosses her hair over her shoulder in a purposeful, overly dramatic, way. "I mean I always knew I had great taste." Both girls laugh again. "You have to meet my brother! He loves your stuff too, not that he would ever admit it. I've seen him admiring the pieces I put up at our place. I had to drag him here today because he's been so mopey the past couple of days. But I bet meeting you would cheer him up! I'll be right back!" Before Clarke could protest, Octavia ran off. Clarke was sure she had a look of sheer confusion on her face, but she couldn't bring herself to care. Octavia was really out there, but there was something about her that you couldn't help but be drawn to. She was right in her assessment of the girl the previous night; she would be a great person to have around. That kind of optimism is infectious.

It didn't take long for Octavia to come back, dragging a taller man by the hand. The closer they got, the more Clarke's eyes widened. By the time they reached the table, the colour had completely left her face. He still hadn't turned to look at her, and Octavia was staring at her brother so she hadn't noticed the shattered expression on Clarke's face.

"This is my brother, Bellamy. Bell, this is Clarke." At the mention of her name, his head snapped in her direction, his eyes meeting hers. Octavia, frowning at her brother's behaviour, looked at Clarke and her frown deepened. "I take it you two know each other…" Clarke was the one to respond.

"Yeah, you could say that." The tension between Bellamy and Clarke was palpable. They had yet to break their staring competition, but she was confused by what she saw in his eyes. It wasn't the same blind hatred she had seen the day before in the hospital, but at the same time she couldn't place it.

"Um… Okay, one of you feel like filling me in." Both Bellamy and Clarke stood frozen. "Wait, Bell, is this the girl you went on a date with yesterday?" Bellamy shook his head, finally breaking the eye contact. Clarke just looked down at her hands, they were clenched together, hidden behind her paintings.

"Well if she isn't that girl, then who is she?" Clarke could feel her eyes burning. If this is Bellamy's sister, that means she's going to hate me too.

"I saved her from the fire on Saturday." Bellamy's voice was robotic, revealing none of the anger that she was sure he felt.

"Oh, okay then. That doesn't explain the weirdness. I mean, it must be a bit awkward meeting someone who's life you saved, considering how much you hate being thought of as a hero, but…" Octavia didn't get a chance to finish what she was thinking because Bellamy spoke up once more.

"She's also Doctor Griffin's daughter." Silence fell. Clarke finally looked up from her hands, and met Octavia's eyes. Her mouth was hanging open in shock. She must have noticed this at the same time as Clarke, because she abruptly closed it with a snap, eyes still wide. She turned her gaze to Bellamy, his expression strangely blank. After all his anger from the day before, she expected another earful, but he remained silent. So did Octavia. Unlike her brother, she didn't appear to know what she wanted to say to the daughter of the woman who let their mother die screaming. If she were in Octavia's position, she wouldn't know what to say either.

Clarke wanted to say something, anything, just to break the silence, but every time she opened her mouth to speak, she swiftly shut it again before any words could make their way out. There was nothing she could say that would make this situation better. Clarke's eyes drifted around, not knowing where to look, but they fixed on Raven as she ran back to the stall. Her expression turned to one of confusion. Not much could make Raven look that conflicted. It was a cross between hurt and nervous. Bellamy seemed to notice her look, and turned towards the oncoming figure. Octavia seemed to snap out of her thoughts too.

"Raven? What's wrong?" Raven's eyes were frantic. But the fear wasn't for her, it was for Clarke. And she understood why the instant the next words fell from her mouth. "He's here."

Clarke's stomach plummeted. No. This couldn't be happening. How would he have known to find her here? Then it hit her. He knew her pseudonym. He would have been following her media posts. Of course he knew she'd be here. As if this could get any worse. The siblings stared at Raven and Clarke in confusion.

"Raven, pack it up." Her friend nodded, before piling up the paintings. Clarke turned to Bellamy and Octavia. "I'm sorry for this, but I need to leave now. You're more than welcome to come and have it out with me whenever you want. Just understand that I am not my mother. And I'm sorry about yours, it is horrible losing a parent, no matter the circumstances" They seemed stunned at her words. Of course they would be, it's not like they knew her any more than she knew them.

It didn't take long to pack up the remaining paintings. It was a good thing they sold so many. But at the same time, the park wasn't that large, and too soon, he was within her field of vision.

"Shit." She didn't need this right now. Or ever. But he was heading straight towards her.

"Clarke, wait. What's going on?" If she didn't know any better, she would have said that both Bellamy and Octavia looked concerned for her. I suppose that happens when you begin to frantically dismantle your stall in the middle of a fair with a certain degree of panic.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself with, Bellamy. No need to play the hero. Just…" Clarke let out a sigh. "Goodbye, Bellamy."

Raven had already made a couple of quick trips to her truck and back with the boxes of paintings, which just left Clarke to handle the tables. She could only take two. For fucks sake. Before she could fully freak out, Octavia picked up the third table.

"Where to?" She gave the girl a grateful smile. Clarke hurried off towards the parking lot, Octavia on her heels. She couldn't fathom the reason why this girl was helping her considering the bombshell that had just been dropped on her. But she was, and for that, Clarke would forever be in the girl's debt.

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 **A/N: Okay, so I know it may look that way, but I definitely do not support drinking away your problems! Clarke is just letting off steam, and is by no means a budding alcoholic. Apart from that little disclaimer, how did you enjoy the chapter? I hope it was enough to keep you all interested considering the relationship between Bell and Clarke is more than a little frosty at the moment! I don't know where half my writing comes from most of the time. I mean the club scene stemmed from a two line plan, and it took up half the chapter. It's true when people say your fingers know what to write before your brain does. Raven in the military with Roan was certainly unexpected for me, so I hope it was for you too! The next chapter should have a bit of both Bell and Clarke's perspectives, which is something we haven't seen in a while. Well, until next time, keep those Bellarke hearts beating! Season 4 is right on our doorstep!**


	6. Chapter 6 - Heat of Confrontation

_Chapter 6 – Heat of Confrontation_

 **A/N: Hey guys! Sorry this update took so long. A combination of an Australian heatwave sapping all my energy, lack of motivation, and migraines have kept me from writing as much as I would like. So this update is about a week later than normal. I hope the quality of the chapter is enough to make up for it! Anyway, I won't take up too much of your time here. So enjoy!**

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Bellamy

Somehow, within the past couple of days, the universe had decided to turn Bellamy's life into a cosmic joke. Or that's how it seemed, at least. Ever since he had laid eyes on Clarke, his life had turned to shit. First, he nearly died saving her life, only to discover that she was the daughter of the woman whom, Bellamy felt, betrayed his mother when she was most vulnerable. Shit was kind of an understatement.

After Bellamy had stormed out of the building, the rest of his night was a blur. He knew that he went out with Gina, but he also knew that he put absolutely no effort into the date. She probably thought he was a total asshole, and she would be right. But he couldn't help the fact that his mind was a jumble of rage, hurt, and images of a shocked face on a certain blonde haired girl. He felt like he was slowly losing his mind.

Bellamy vaguely remembered excusing himself from the date, claiming he didn't feel well before half running home. The first stroke of luck came when he had gotten home. It was late, so Octavia was out. At the Dropship, most likely. He could at least avoid her interrogation for a little while longer. She would have instantly known something was wrong, just from the look on his face. Neither of them could hide a single thing they thought from the other. It was a blessing in some situations, but in this situation, it was most definitely a curse. There was no way that Bellamy wanted Octavia to find out about this. They had just started to move on from the pain of it all. Living normal lives again. Just because he wouldn't be able to get this out of his head, doesn't mean she had to suffer the same torment.

Since Octavia's job kept her out all night, he didn't have to pretend to be alright until the next day, giving him the night to process everything. Not that it was something that can be comprehended in a matter of hours. There were tears, and the desire to smash up the house, but he managed to keep the second one contained. Overall, it was a really shitty night. The only positive was that he had the opportunity to do it on his own, and his sister wouldn't have to see him in such a state. Not again. So, after getting most of the raw emotion out of his system the night before, he tried to act as normal as possible whenever he was around his sister the next day. Bellamy thought he was actually pulling it off until Octavia called him out on his strange behaviour.

"Okay, Bell, what the fuck is up with you? You've been moping around all morning." She had stormed over to where he was lying on the couch with the TV on without actually watching it. This didn't escape Octavia's notice. "And what's worse is that you're watching Dance Moms. When I tried to get you to watch it, you ranted for half an hour about the injustices surrounding forcing children into those competitive and combative environments. So, unless you've suddenly had a change in your core beliefs, you've only got the TV on to make it look like you're not sitting here contemplating something big." She sat down next to him. "Since you can't look me in the eye, I guess that makes it option number 2. What's wrong big brother?"

Bellamy couldn't do much more than shake his head and mumble out, "I'm fine." They both knew it was a complete lie, but Octavia didn't comment on it. He could feel her gaze burning a hole in the side of his head. Instead of arguing further, Octavia turned towards the TV and started prattling on about the show until Bellamy got frustrated enough to change the channel. He knew what she was doing; she was trying to bring him back to normal by avoiding the problem. Being a distraction. The same thing he did with her when their mother was sick. The thought only made Bellamy feel worse.

The one hope of relief lay in the fact that Octavia had plans that afternoon, so she would soon go out, giving Bellamy another chance to get his shit together. He would sneak a look up at the clock every few minutes, willing the hands to move faster, but they stuck to their same, relentless pace. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock. However, his wish wouldn't come true. While Octavia was pulling on her shoes and grabbing her stuff to leave, she caught him looking at one of the paintings in the room.

"Hey, Bell, you should totally come with me. You know I'm going to see Wanheda, and there's no point in pretending that you're not as big a fan as I am, because we both know the truth. That, and, I can't have you wallowing in whatever self-pity party you've decided to throw yourself today, anymore. You're going to drive me insane." Finally turning to look at his sister, he could see the determined set in her posture, and he nearly groaned. He knew he was screwed. There was no arguing with her when she was like this, not that it would stop him trying.

"O, please. You know art isn't really my thing, it's yours. I'll just be stumbling around and getting in your way, and you know you don't want that. You've been looking forward to this ever since you heard about it. Plus, you're wrong about the artist. Yeah, their stuff is alright, but I'm not gonna go all fanboy over it." She just rolled her eyes.

"That's because you don't fanboy over art, dummy. You appreciate it. Which you do. Frequently. And I choose to ignore your other arguments. Get up, I'm not leaving without you, and if I miss meeting Wanheda because of your stubborn ass, there'll be hell to pay." Octavia threw his shoes at him, raising an eyebrow, daring him to challenge her. This time Bellamy did groan in frustration. Sometimes he worried that his sister was going to kill him before the job ever had a chance to.

It didn't take Octavia long to run off and leave him to wander around the fair on his own. He was glad, probably for the first time in his life, that her excitement led her to be a little forgetful sometimes. Bellamy wandered around the different stalls, eyes trailing over all the different types of products; from woodcarvings to origami, stencils, custom furniture, air blown glass, pottery, and, of course, paintings and drawings of all descriptions. Some were pretty good, others, not so much. Nothing took his breath away, and nothing made him forget his dark mood.

Bellamy was fiddling with a small metal ornament of a deer with two heads when his sister barrelled into him.

"Bell! I found Wanheda! And she is amazing! I actually met her last night at the club with her friends, she was super nice and gave me a massive tip." Bellamy smiled briefly at his sister's overzealous praise of the artist. "Oh, and her art! Bell! It's better than anything I've ever seen! I know how much you love the ones at home, but these… These blew my mind!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards the inner ring of stalls, unable to keep the smile off her face.

Octavia was right though. When they stopped in front of the stall, Bellamy couldn't take his eyes off the artwork. They flowed in a way that he couldn't explain. It just made sense to him. Octavia's voice filtered through his revere of the artwork, but his eyes caught hold of a darker piece, one made of dark swirling lines, full of anguish and fear. It pulled at his heart.

"This is my brother, Bellamy. Bell, this is Clarke." The only thing that could have snapped his focus away from that painting was that name. The owner of that name stood before him, all colour gone from her face, eyes wide, shock written all over her expression. Plus another emotion he couldn't place.

From the corner of his eye, Bellamy could see Octavia's gaze switching between himself and Clarke, the frown on her face deepening with each sweep of her eyes. "I take it you two know each other…"

"You could say that." Clarke answered, her voice as tense as the rest of her. Bellamy's gaze held Clarke's, neither of them blinking. He felt like he was trying to read her mind while having her read his. His thoughts must be as easy to read as the ink on the pages of a book. It made his heart crumble. There would be no way he could hide the truth from Octavia any longer, and the thought broke his heart.

"Um… Okay, one of you feel like filling me in." Bellamy knew it had to be him. There was no way his sister would forgive him if he let someone else tell her. Not about this. "Wait, Bell, is this the girl you went on a date with yesterday." Bellamy shook his head automatically, and in his shock, he expected the words to tumble out of his mouth as he turned to look his sister in the eyes.

"Well if she isn't that girl, then who is she?" Bellamy wished that it was that simple. If he could lie to her and tell her it was the girl he was seeing, life would be so much easier. Bu the second the words would have left his mouth, she would have known it was a lie. There was no point to any of this. Why couldn't he and his sister live the rest of their lives in peace? Why couldn't they get a break from all this heartache? Didn't they deserve that at least? Didn't they deserve more than the shitty life they've been handed?

"I saved her from the fire on Saturday." It wasn't the whole truth, but it was a start. Bellamy had to keep his voice as emotionless as possible. There was no way he could break down now, Octavia would need him to be strong because her world was about to fall apart once more and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it.

"Oh, okay then. That doesn't explain the weirdness." Octavia was perceptive. Her stare scrutinized his face for any hints at the secrets he was keeping from her, but clearly coming up with nothing. Of course she was, this isn't the sort of thing you expect to hear at a quiet artist's market, "I mean, it must be a bit awkward meeting someone who's life you saved, considering you how much you hate being thought of as a hero, but…" Bellamy had to cut her off, there was no way of softening this for his little sister, and every word she spoke in the meantime felt like a dagger. He was about to shatter the happiness his sister had been creating since their mother's death.

"She's also Doctor Griffin's daughter." No one spoke then. Bellamy stood and watched as Octavia's world imploded. He could see the tears she was holding back. Her eyes wide, mouth hanging open in absolute shock and heartache. Bellamy wanted nothing more than to pull her close and never let go, but at the same time he knew that this was something that she had to come to terms with on her own. He clenched his fist at his side to quell the urge to reach out to her. Octavia hates to show weakness, particularly in such a public place, so with an effort, Bellamy watched as she tried to compose herself, snapping her mouth closed, trying not to shake. Trying not to cry.

Unlike him, she wasn't angry. Not yet anyway. He could only see the pain she was feeling. He was sure that she was now reliving every moment in that accursed hospital room with their mother and Clarke's mother, just like he did after storming out of the hospital the day before. It was absolute torture. Bellamy hated to see his sister like this, but he couldn't look away either. He tried to read on her face what she needed from him, but was getting nothing but the agony of memory and loss.

In an attempt to escape the flood of emotions, Bellamy lifted his gaze away from Octavia for a moment, to see if Clarke was still there and how she was reacting to Octavia finding out who she was. Surely her mother had spun some tale about their mother and how it wasn't her fault. Bellamy couldn't deny his anger was rising again, but Clarke's face wasn't one of pity or arrogance, or any other emotion he had predicted, but it was one of confusion. This in itself was enough to startle him. She was staring out past him and Octavia, he turned to follow her gaze, fixing on an approaching brunette girl. The closer she got, the clearer it was that something was definitely up. Something that wasn't to do with him or his sister. Octavia even seemed to notice the approaching girl, a flicker of recognition in her eye. Maybe this was someone else she met last night. Bellamy couldn't help but be grateful for the interruption, whatever it was, because it was enough to stop the dark path his sister's thoughts were heading down.

"Raven? What's wrong?" Clarke's voice was ringing with concern, and her friend's eyes were darting all over.

"He's here." For the second time that day, Bellamy watched as all colour bled from Clarke's face. He may despise her mother, and have conflicting emotions around the girl herself, that doesn't stop his stomach from clenching. No one should look that scared from two small words. What could this person have done to illicit such a response from one of the bravest people he had ever met?

"Raven, pack it up." The girl nodded and started packing away all the paintings into plastic boxes hidden behind the table. Clarke turned to Bellamy and Octavia and spoke again. "I'm sorry for this, but I need to leave now. You're more than welcome to come and have it out with me whenever you want. Just understand that I am not my mother. And I'm sorry about yours, it is horrible losing a parent, no matter the circumstances"

Bellamy was stunned. She was still thinking about their feelings about his mother, when she was so clearly terrified. But, wait… The way she said that, about losing a parent... It was like she spoke from personal experience. Bellamy's eyebrows knit together. This girl was one surprise after another.

Raven and Clarke had nearly finished packing up, while Bellamy and Octavia stood awkwardly to the side. Clarke looked around and froze.

"Shit." Bellamy followed her line of sight, fixing on an approaching figure in the distance. It was hard to discern any features from such a distance, but it was definitely a man, and he was definitely heading in their direction. Bellamy couldn't keep quiet any longer.

"Clarke, wait. What's going on?" _Are you in trouble?_ That's what he wanted to ask, but couldn't bring himself to say the words. He didn't know why he was projecting his hatred for her mother onto her, but he couldn't help it. Part of him was angry enough at the association that it kept his mouth shut. Well, mostly shut. He looked over at Octavia, and she was looking at Clarke with concern too. Bellamy had his arm half hovering in front of Clarke, blocking her path.

"Nothing you need to worry yourself with, Bellamy. No need to play the hero. Just…" Her expression was infinitely sad, and she let out a sigh. "Goodbye, Bellamy." She pushed past Bellamy to reach the remaining tables left behind by Raven. It was too much for her to carry on her own and she knew it. She sent a frantic glance to the approaching figure, when Octavia picked up the last table.

"Where to?" Clarke gave her a smile, and Octavia followed her out behind the tent, out of sight of the man. Bellamy's heart swelled with pride for his sister. She could be so selflessly kind, it didn't surprise him in the slightest that she was helping Clarke in her moment of need. It's just what she does.

An invisible hand gripped Bellamy's heart as he caught a glance of the two girls rushing towards the exit of the park. Clarke put her own life on the line without a second thought over her own safety, yet this asshole has the power over her to send her running for this hills. That is not okay. If Bellamy knew anything in that moment, it was that he would get to the bottom of this situation, and he would have Clarke's back if she needed it.

The man walked the rest of the way to the now vacated stall, with a frown forming on his face.

"Where's Clarke? I just saw her here talking to you." Up close, he was nothing spectacular, nothing Bellamy couldn't handle, but his looks must be very deceiving if he could frighten Clarke so much. His shoulder length brown hair was a mess, a scowl ruining whatever charm he might usually have, plus, he definitely appeared to be looking for trouble. All of this put Bellamy on his guard.

While he was making this assessment, the man was looking around the rest of the park grounds, locking on to the park exit. "Never mind, I found her." He condescendingly pat Bellamy on the shoulder, trying to move around him, but Bellamy put out his arm, holding him back.

"Yeah, I don't think so. Who are you and what do you want with Clarke?" He tried to push past again, but got nowhere, so he took a few steps back to size Bellamy up.

"None of your business." He retorted as he crossed his arms across his chest. Very original. Bellamy resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Well it is my business now, so if you want to go anywhere near her, you're going to tell me. So get talking." The man was visibly getting pissed off, but Bellamy wasn't planning on backing down. Everything he did validated his reasons for being there and standing up for Clarke.

"Clarke is my girlfriend. Satisfied?" He tried to walk past Bellamy again, but he grabbed him by the collar, and shoved him back. Passers-by were looking in their direction, stopping to watch the two men face off. The more people who stopped, the more uncomfortable the man became. _Yeah, that's right scumbag,_ Bellamy thought.

"Yeah, judging by how fast she ran out of here at the very mention of you, I highly doubt that. Try again."

"You know what, fuck you." He spat at Bellamy's feet. "You won't always be around, hanging around for my scraps, so I'll find her. And then, what happens to her will be on your head." He starts to back away, a shit eating grin on his face. "Remember, all of this could have been avoided if you just let me speak to the little whore like a civilised adult." And with that, he walked away.

It took all of Bellamy's resolve to not chase him and knock him out for how he talked about Clarke. No woman should be spoken about like that. But he knew that's what he wanted. For Bellamy to cause a bigger scene, and be painted as the bad guy. Instead, he let out the breath he had been holding during the man's parting remarks. There was no doubt that he meant business. What the hell was Clarke involved in? His thoughts drifted to the car park where the girls were most likely still at. Octavia! Would she be in danger now? No, she can't be. He wouldn't have seen her with Clarke, and even if he did, he wouldn't know who she was. Still, Bellamy couldn't calm his anxiety so he ran in the direction the girls had headed.

Since it was nearing the end of the fair, people were walking back to their cars, vendors were putting away their wares, and cars were moving around all over the place. Before he could become frantic, he saw Octavia watching a red pickup truck pulling away. She was alone. He looked back at the truck and saw Raven and Clarke driving away. At least Clarke was safe. For now. The man was right when he said he couldn't be there all the time to look out for her. Then what would happen to her? What would have happened today if he wasn't there? He contemplated this as he walked over to where Octavia was leaning against a tree. A broken look was on her face.

"O? What's wrong?" He placed his hands on her shoulders, trying to catch her eye.

"Oh, Bell. It was horrible. She told me everything about him." The sadness turned to venom in her eyes. "He needs to rot in the deepest pits of hell for what he did to those girls."

"What did he do?" When she just shook her head, Bellamy pressed on. "Look, I got in that guy's face, but that won't stop him coming after Clarke again. I need to know what we're up against, or if I have to go to the police or anything." This shocked her.

"No! No cops. They can't help anyway." She pulled Bellamy into a hug. "Look, I'll tell you everything when we get home. I don't feel safe here when I don't know where that freak is lurking."

"Okay, let's go home." Clarke was scared, Octavia was scared, and he wasn't exactly immune to the atmosphere either. The guy was definitely dangerous, whoever the hell he was, and he didn't want Octavia anywhere near this guy, especially when she seems to know more about what's going on than he does.

"Oh, and Bell?" She pulled away as they began walking home.

"Yeah?" Some of the fear and anger had evaporated from her expression, putting Bellamy at ease.

"Clarke and I saw what you did. Keeping him away from us. She wanted to thank you herself, but she didn't know how you would feel about that, so she left." Bellamy couldn't look at his sister anymore. He felt guilty about how he treated Clarke back at the hospital, so in his own kind of way, this was him trying to make up for that.

"She has nothing to thank me for, it's what I do. Always got to be the hero, right?" He tried to joke, but it fell a little flat. Octavia smiled at the effort regardless.

"Bell, I think you should cut her some slack. You know, about her mother and all that. She was right when she said her and her mother were nothing alike. She is a really good person, and who are we to judge her by her mother anyway?" Bellamy let out a sigh.

"Yeah, I know, but I was just so angry, and she was just in the firing line."

"I get it, Bell. I was mad too. And hurt. And upset. And a million other emotions." She did look sad, but not as shattered as when she first heard the news. "I know that part of us will always see her mother when we see her, but she doesn't deserve the backlash. Okay? So just apologise or something. Not that she'll have a hard time accepting it, she feels like she owes us after today…" Before Bellamy could protest that statement, Octavia cut him off. "Of course I told her that was ridiculous, but she wouldn't listen. Who knows, maybe you'll have better luck convincing her than I did." By that point, they had made their way home, Octavia unlocking the door to let them both in.

"Okay, we're home now, time to explain to me what the hell we just walked into." Octavia walked into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of vodka and bourbon. Bellamy couldn't keep the puzzled expression off his face, but Octavia didn't laugh like she normally would. She placed the bourbon bottle in front of him with a solemn expression.

"Trust me, big brother, you're gonna need that for what I'm about to tell you." She opens the vodka and takes a swig, and grimaces. "Okay, here it goes…"

* * *

 **A/N: Another cliffhanger, I know, I'm sorry! But have you figured out who the mystery man is? It seems obvious to me, but then again, I know who it is. If you do know now, did you guess it was this person at the end of the last chapter, or did you think it someone else entirely! Let me know in a review! Speaking of reviews, I would like to thank everyone who has followed, favourited, and/or reviewed this story! Honestly, it means the absolute world to me. It has received the most encouraging feedback, and that is what keeps me writing.**

 **Okay, I hope the next chapter won't take as long as this one. I will try my best, as long as my head will stop hurting long enough to actually write it.**

 **Oh! And since I haven't updated since the premiere was aired, how is everyone finding season 4 so far?! I won't give away any spoilers, but feel free to follow me on my tumblr (carry-0n-my-wayward-fand0m) and come fangirl with me xx**


	7. Chapter 7 - I've Been Burned Before

_Chapter 7 – I've Been Burned Before_

 **A/N: Hi guys! To make up for the time it took for the last update, and leaving you all on a cliffhanger two chapters in a row, I'm giving you this chapter a day early! I hope you enjoy it!**

* * *

Clarke

Thoughts were rushing around in Clarke's head a million miles an hour. What if he saw her? Would he follow her? What if it was like the last time she saw him…? She snuck a look back towards the tent where Finn was still approaching. Shit. She sent a silent apology out into the universe for Bellamy's sake. He has no idea what he has got himself in for. He should have just walked away, yet he's still standing at the remains of the stall like an idiot. She should have told him to leave while he still had the chance…

Octavia was still firmly on her heels, a look of determination in her eyes. Why was she helping? I mean, she did just find out my mother was the reason her's suffered. That isn't exactly the best foundation for friendship and kindness, yet here she was. With her. Helping her. Clarke couldn't not be grateful to the girl, but she had no idea what she was dealing with. Hopefully, Finn didn't notice her, or think she is worth his time if he did. It would be the only way she stays safe now.

The closer they got to the gate, the more exposed they were to the rest of the park lands. It took all Clarke's self-control to not run straight for the exit, but that would only draw unwanted attention to herself and Octavia. Clarke allowed herself one more glance back in the direction of her stall, only to see Finn scanning the rest of the park for her, and Bellamy standing in his path. Fuck! Afraid to make eye contact, Clarke turned back around and moved with more haste towards the exit, attention be damned.

Clarke's eyes scanned the carpark for Raven's truck, but instead found the girl half hidden in a nearby grove of trees. All of Clarke's artwork were in boxes at her feet. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she walked over to the other girl.

"Raven, what's going on? Where's the truck?" Raven scratched the back of her neck and bit her lip in awkwardness.

"Well, I forgot that I leant it to Roan for the afternoon…" Clarke dropped the two tables to the ground.

"Raven!" The girl put her hands out in front of her in earnest.

"I know! I'm sorry! I didn't think fuck face would show up now did I. Don't worry, I'll call him now. He shouldn't be far." She finally looked over at Octavia when she lowered the table she was carrying. "Thanks for helping, but you might want to get out of here while you still can. This is probably gonna get ugly." Octavia shook her head.

"I can't do that. I'm involved now. Plus, what kind of person do you think I am? I can't just walk away knowing you guys are in some sort of trouble. Bell will keep him off us for a little bit." Raven seemed to accept this, and walked off a little distance, pulling her phone out of her pocket as she went. Off to call Roan, she guessed.

"Are you sure, Octavia?" Clarke finally spoke up, Octavia turned to her and gave her a small smile.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Look, I know this is a bit of a fucked up situation, but I'm not gonna bail on you. No one should be that scared of another person. You seem like a good person, and I make it a point to know, and help, good people."

"Your brother doesn't seem to see it that way, at least he didn't yesterday. You don't even know what you've gotten yourself involved in."

"Bellamy is nothing if not complicated. He was really close to our mother, so he took her death really hard. He was always the person I looked up to when growing up, but he looked up to her. He's just got conflicting emotions about the whole situation, I'm sure he'll come around. Or at least realise it isn't fair to blame you for something you didn't do." She gave Clarke a reassuring smile, which relaxed some of the tension in her shoulders. What did she do to deserve such kindness from this girl? "As for the second thing, that's easily enough fixed. Just tell me what's going on." Before she could start talking, Raven made her way back over to them.

"Roan should be here in a few minutes, he was done with the truck anyway." Her eyes switched back and forth between the two girls. "What did I miss?"

"Clarke was about to tell me what's going on." Raven froze.

"Oookaaay. Well you two have fun with that." Clarke grabbed Raven's arm before the girl had a chance to walk away.

"You're just as much a part of this story as I am, you should help tell it." Clarke raised an eyebrow at her, daring her to challenge what she said. Raven rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Whatever. Dredge up the past. See what I care." She crossed her arms against her chest, clearly annoyed at the situation.

"Raven, come on, you know it's not like that." Clarke implored.

"Look, if you don't want to talk about it…" Octavia began, but Clarke cut her off with a shake of her head.

"No, if you're going to be involved, this is something you need to hear. You shouldn't be going in blind" Octavia nodded. At this, even Raven seemed to relent, letting her arms fall to her side in defeat.

"Clarke's right. I just hate thinking back on this shit, that's all. But you not knowing is gonna be worse for everyone. I guess I just have to suck it up." Clarke put a reassuring hand on Raven's arm which earned her a weak smile in return. Clarke let out a sigh before she began.

"I don't even really know where to begin. His name is Finn Collins, and he is our ex-boyfriend."

"Our? As in he dated both of you?" Both Clarke and Raven nodded at Octavia's words. "Wow, okay, continue."

"He was my boyfriend first." Raven started, "We grew up together. He was there for me when nobody else was, not even my own parents. My mum is a degenerate alcoholic, and I don't know who my dad is. Finn was the boy next door. He gave me what food he could spare, remembered my birthday. He saved my life. We got together when I was 15, he was 14. Things were great until I joined the military when I was 17. We barely spoke over the two years I was away, which was understandable, but I never stopped loving him. When I got back, things were the same. He was still the sweet boy I remembered, or so I thought." Raven's face was stone as she told the story. Clarke wanted to say something, but stayed quiet as Raven continued. "It turns out that while I was away he was cheating on me. With Clarke, amongst others. That's how Clarke and I met. One day I walked in on them at his place. I almost killed him, but Clarke stopped me at the last minute."

"Biggest mistake of my life" Clarke muttered.

"I'd agree with you, but I don't think I'd look hot in prison gear." Raven tried to joke, but the attempt fell short.

"I didn't believe Raven at first. Finn told me that she was stalking him, and didn't take no for an answer. And after the way Raven flipped out, it seemed reasonable. But looking back, it's obviously complete shit." Clarke hoped she didn't look as drained as she felt. Every beautiful and horrible memory of her time with Finn was rushing around in her head. "All this happened about 4 years ago. We met when we were both 18, about 6 months before Raven came home, and a few months after my dad died. I was a wreck, I barely ate or slept, or did anything. My mum and I were practically strangers, we couldn't stand being in the same room. I felt alone in the world. And then Finn came along. He must get a kick from playing the hero for a damsel in distress or some shit like that. He put the pieces back together and I fell in love with him because of it. I was completely brainwashed. I was just a shell of who I was before my father died, but I was fooled into thinking I was happy. Raven tracked me down after that night and showed me everything. Photos, texts, letters, including exchanges while she was away and after she came home, and I realised that I was trapped in the most soul sucking relationship imaginable. I didn't see the chains he had me in until I tried to escape them. I wasn't allowed to leave the house without his okay, I had to have him veto who I could and couldn't talk to, he made me completely dependent on him. If it weren't for Raven, I'd still be trapped there. She helped me get out. I moved, took out a restraining order, and thought that would be the end of it."

"That is horrible! No wonder you freaked out when he showed up!"

"I wish that was everything." Clarke looked over at Raven as she spoke, her eyes widening almost indiscernibly. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed, but in that moment, she knew exactly what the other girl was thinking. "After I broke up with Finn, he never let up. He kept following me. I'd see him out of the corner of my eye, outside of the range of the restraining order, but I knew he was there. I was afraid all the time." Raven's shoulders relaxed slightly, catching up with where Clarke's head was at. She placed an arm around her as she continued one of the worst parts of the story. "One night, I was coming home from Stanford and the front door of my apartment was wide open. Everything was trashed. Finn had taken an axe to all my furniture, defaced my art and photographs, tore up my clothes; he basically destroyed everything he could get his hands on. I walked around my house in tears and I was about to call the cops when he walked back in. He had the most maniacal grin on his face, and he had a gun pointed point blank at my face. I honestly thought I was going to die that night. He told me that I ought to die for leaving him, for betraying him. I was his property, he owned me, and that I would never be safe anywhere again. He moved the gun slightly and pulled the trigger. The bullet grazed my shoulder."

Clarke lowered the sleeve of her shirt to show Octavia the scar. A shocked gasp escaped the other girl's lips, and Clarke covered up the mark again. She could still hear the gun firing, feel the bullet burn its way across her shoulder. The fear was the worst part. It was the most potent part of the memory. It was palpable. Some nights Clarke still woke up screaming, thinking she was back there and about to die all over again. Tears began to blur Clarke's vision, and rolled down her cheeks. Raven pulled her into an even tighter embrace.

"He kept on his rant for a few minutes while I stood there bleeding, talking about how I would be sorry that I ever went to the police. That there was nothing they could do to keep him away from me. That he would never stop coming for me. Someone must have called the cops after they heard the gunshot, though, because it wasn't long before we could hear the sirens. I thought that was it, I thought he was going to kill me right then and there, rather than have me talk to the police against him again. Instead, he took the gun and hit me in the head with the butt of it. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in the hospital. Finn had been arrested."

"Without Clarke's knowledge, after we figured out Finn started stalking her, I installed some security cameras in her place. I caught the whole bloody thing on tape, and they arrested the fucker. It was up there with some of the worst shit I've seen in my life, and that's saying something." Raven looked at Clarke, who was still tucked under her arm. "I have no idea how he got out of prison. He should still be there for at least another 3 years."

"He always did say he knew people. I thought it was all talk to make him look cool, but maybe not."

Silence fell over the three girls. No one could think of what to say next. Octavia pulled Clarke and Raven into a bear hug, which neither girl expected. They hugged her back. When Octavia pulled away, there were tears falling silently down her face.

"There's no way that sack of shit is getting away with this. Can't you get the cops to arrest him again? For like breaking his restraining order or something?"

"No. The police can't get involved. Not again. That's what made him come after me in the first place. Plus, he obviously got out of prison once, I doubt they can do much to keep him there a second time. He has to have to crazy connections." Clarke couldn't stop shaking. It began part way through her story, only a slight tremor in her hands, but now her whole body trembled.

"Well I can't do much to protect you from that level of psychotic, myself, but Bell is strong, and he'll have your back if I tell him what happened. And his firefighting buddies won't let this stand either."

A car horn blared, making all three girls jump. Raven grumbled as she walked towards the red pickup and hit the driver up the back of the head when he jumped out of the cab. It was the bouncer, and ex-army buddy, Roan. He was just as scary in daylight. They were just far enough away that Clarke couldn't hear what they were talking about, but you could tell they were having a tender moment right before he walked away, getting into another car that had parked itself a few spots away. Before either girl could speak, Raven held up a hand to stop their questions and began packing up the artwork. Clarke turned back to Octavia.

"If you want to tell Bellamy, that's up to you. But he doesn't have to get involved. Neither of you do. You two have done more than enough for me over the past couple of days. As it is, I owe you so much, I don't know how I can begin to repay you. I don't want to drag you into more trouble."

"Clarke, you don't owe me or Bellamy anything…" Octavia told her as she pulled her into another hug. "We both enjoy sticking our noses in where they don't belong anyway. Whether you like it or not, our families have been linked for a long time, and maybe it's about time to make something good out of that connection rather than dwelling on all the shit that has happened." She pulled back to look at Clarke, who could only nod. Raven walked back over to the others, keys in hand.

"Okay, we should leave. We never know when Finn might walk over, and no one wants to deal with that." Raven pulled Octavia into a quick hug. "Thanks. You didn't have to help Clarke, but both you and your brother had our backs. That means a lot." She walked back to the truck and started the engine.

"Can you thank your brother for me? For stopping Finn. The only reason he's not here yet is probably because of him. I know I should thank him myself, but he probably still doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Of course I will, not that you owe us thanks or anything. And I'm sure he doesn't hate you, he's just angry at the world." A half-hearted laugh escaping her lips.

"Here, in case you ever need me. Or Raven." Clarke handed Octavia her Wanheda business card. "It has my personal number on the back. Thank you, Octavia."

Clarke hurried over to the truck, turning back to see Octavia wave goodbye. Raven gunned it out of the parking lot as quickly as possible, considering a lot of other people were choosing to leave at the same time. Out the corner of her eye, she saw Bellamy run out of the exit of the park, and make his way over to where Octavia was standing. There was no sign of Finn. She let out a sigh of relief. She could relax slightly. For the time being, at least. Who knew where he would show up next? Tears started to fall again. She didn't know how long she would last if she was living in constant fear again. It nearly killed her the last time. Bullets weren't the only threat to her life, anymore.

* * *

Raven

Fucking Finn Collins. Would they ever be free of that bastard? It had been 4 years. Seeing him again was like a punch to the gut; a feeling she was only too familiar with. Her first instinct was to go and finish what she started when she found him with Clarke that first time, but instead, she bolted back to the stall where Clarke was waiting. She knew what the news would do to her, but there was no avoiding it. Somehow, he'd gotten out of prison and was back in their lives. Raven could see the absolute terror in her eyes when she told her, and it killed her. Safety first, feelings second, she had to remind herself. As long as Clarke was safe, they could worry about putting the pieces back together after.

It didn't take long to get all the stuff to the parking lot, but then she remembered Roan. Fucking damn it all! Of all the days he needed her truck, it had to be today. Clarke soon made it to where she was waiting in the trees, with the girl she'd been talking to at the stall. The same girl from the bar the night before. Raven didn't have time to work out what was happening there, they only had to get out of there before Finn was on their asses.

Octavia seemed determined to help, but she had no idea what she was getting herself in for. It was a shit show and a half. As her and Clarke began explaining, you could see the dread in the girl's eyes. Maybe it was for the best. If she freaked out, at least she wouldn't be in Finn's war path. But then Clarke's words sent a surge of fear down her spine.

"I wish that was everything." This couldn't be happening. Clarke wouldn't say it. She looked Raven directly in the eyes, and she was worried that her best friend would betray her just like Finn had. "After I broke up with Finn, he never let up. He kept following me. I'd see him out of the corner of my eye, outside of the range of the restraining order, but I knew he was there. I was afraid all the time." Raven couldn't help the relief she felt. She knew the horrors Clarke was about to reveal to the other girl, but her own selfish relief was the main thing she felt. Clarke wasn't betraying her trust.

When Roan finally showed up, Raven slapped him up the back of the head for being an absolute moron. What kind of idiot, especially the kind who had been to war, would beep a horn at someone who had been in the army? It's just asking them to freak out, and she couldn't deal with some army related PTSD or panic attack right now, she had more pressing issues to send her anxiety levels skyward.

"You bloody idiot!" He had the good sense to look apologetic after she got in his face. "What made you think that was a good idea? You damn near gave me a heart attack!"

"I'm sorry, I didn't think. I thought you were dealing with everything since you came back? You've never said otherwise."

"That doesn't mean you start blaring car horns at them when their back is turned!" Roan's eyebrows furrowed.

"This is about more than the horn, isn't it?" Before Raven could dismiss him, he spoke again. "Don't even bother trying to deny it, I can see it in your eyes." Raven looked down, drained. It was too exhausting dealing with all the memories and emotions related to Finn's return, and to try and pretend that it wasn't destroying her. She could at least tell Roan, get some of it off her chest.

"Finn's back. He got out of prison." For the longest time, Roan was one of the few people who could take her mind off everything Finn had done to her. They had gotten in contact again not long after everything had gone down. He was someone separate from that life, someone who knew and understood pain and fear.

"That fucking prick. Where is he?" Raven put a hand on his chest to stop him going after Finn. She shouldn't have been surprised that this was how he reacted. She wanted to kill him too.

"Don't. Not now. I'll deal with it. I just need to get Clarke out of here. Who knows how long it will take him to find us." Roan lifted the strand of hair that had fallen into her eye and placed it behind her ear, caressing her cheek with his fingers.

"Make sure to look after yourself in the meantime, not just Clarke. He hurt you too, and he could do it again."

"I will, now go." He held her gaze for a moment longer before walking to another car that must be driven by a friend. She walks back over to the other girls, urging Clarke that they need to leave.

Leaving the fair brought a sense of relief to the air. The further they got, the better Raven felt. She could see Clarke still crying, but that was unlikely to let up anytime soon. She had been confronted with her ugliest demons today, of course she was upset. Raven planned on driving her back to her apartment, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. Instead, she pulled up in front of her own building. Clarke barely seemed to notice that they'd stopped; too wrapped up in her own turmoil.

"Hey, Clarke." She had to shake the girl to get her attention. When she finally looked up at her, she looked dazed. "You're staying with me tonight, I'm not going to leave you on your own." Clarke looked grateful, but didn't seem capable of much more than that. Raven walked around to Clarke's side and half pulled her out of the pickup, and walked her to the apartment. Sitting down on the couch, she pulled the girl to her and let her cry herself out. The girls clung to one another for over an hour, before Clarke's tears finally slowed, and she fell asleep, utterly exhausted.

After pulling a blanket over her friend, Raven walked to the bathroom, and started the shower. The warm water making her shudder. Images were flying through her mind, relentlessly. All the horrors she had faced, laid out before her. It started with her childhood, starving, begging her mother for something to eat; anything. Then it was the army. Body after body returning from battle, some luckier than others. Burning flesh from roadside bombs and IEDs. Some soldiers missing limbs; bits of ragged skin hanging from the stumps of arms, legs, or torsos. Then it was coming home. To Finn. What was supposed to be the happiest time of her life, became one of the worst. It wasn't even the cheating. That was just the final straw. She should have left him the second he laid a hand on her, but she had no one else, and he knew that. He used that.

It started when she yelled at him for not being there for her when she'd woken up one night screaming from nightmares about the army. He just told her to shut up, she called him an insensitive bastard, and he slapped her across the face. Then it grew. If she raised her voice, used the wrong tone, looked at him wrong, didn't do what he wanted. It was an endless cycle of slaps, punches, kicks. But it took him sleeping with Clarke to set her free. She realised that she wasn't alone. At least not when it came to the abuse. She could stop him from hurting someone else. And that's what she did. She stopped him. She didn't depend on him like he needed her to. He had no power over her anymore. Or so she had thought. So she had hoped.

The sobs pulled themselves out of her. Raven felt her legs slowly buckle, so she leaned against the wall of the shower and slid to the ground. She curled up in the foetal position under the warm spray and cried. She cried for herself and for Clarke; for all the pain she had endured by his hand; for the fear she and Clarke had to feel then and now. She thought the worst was over when he went to prison, but with him back, Raven had no idea what was in store for her.

Raven barely managed to turn off the shower and put on her robe. She felt so weak. Her breathing was still ragged from the crying. She curled up in bed, tucking her knees up towards her chin, and hugged the closest pillow. Burying her face in it, she began to cry again, but few tears came. You could only cry so much before you had nothing left to give. Raven stared out into the darkness for what seemed like hours, when her door opened. She would have been afraid if she had the energy, but the familiar footsteps soon put her at ease anyway. Clarke climbed into the bed, facing Raven, and mimicking the other girl's position. She reached out her hand across the blankets, meeting Raven's half way

Was there ever going to be a way for them to move on? No. Not while he was still breathing.

* * *

 **A/N: So a pretty dark chapter by my standards, or at least I think so. So the big reveal came! Finn Collins is Mr. Creepy Bad Guy! I'm sure it was more obvious in the last chapter, but now it's confirmed. How did you enjoy having Raven's POV? If other character POV's are something you want more of, let me know, and I will make it happen. I know that for a Bellarke fic there is very little Bellarke interaction at all, but I promise that is going to change very soon. Unfortunately, I wouldn't get used to regular updates. I'm starting back at university in a couple of weeks, and I don't know when I'll find the time to update, but I promise to do my best. I have no intentions to abandon this story, I will see it through until it's conclusion. I hope you can just bare with me. As always, thank you for all the reviews, follows, and favourites! I love getting feedback from you guys, it is what keeps me writing. The positive reviews make me so happy, so thank you to all those that take the time to write them. Until next time guys! xx**


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